At the End of All Things
by yellowrose
Summary: Through a terrible misunderstanding, a devastated Sam leaves Minas Tirith for the Shire alone, but home is not what he expected. No Slash. Now Complete.
1. Default Chapter

While clearing out some old files, I ran across this story I had started long ago, but never finished. I debated about continuing it, then decided to change the beginning so that it follows movie canon (as do various parts of the story) and finally decided how the story would end. I still debated about posting it, but decided to go ahead. It may not be the most exciting story on earth (or Middle Earth!), but I hope you enjoy it!  
  
Chapter 1 Awakening  
  
It was the laughter that first woke Sam. It was a sound so out of place that he found it almost jarring. He lay still for a few moments, his eyes tightly shut as he strained to hear. For merest sliver of a moment, he thought for sure it was Frodo, but just as quickly, he dismissed that notion. He hadn't heard Frodo laugh in so long, he wasn't sure it was even possible. He continued to listen harder and slowly he realized that it was indeed his master's own warm, musical laugh! Sam's eyes flew open and with amazement, he found himself in such an unlikely place, he thought for sure he must be dreaming!  
  
He was in a soft bed in a small, but airy room. The brilliant morning sun was streaming in through a large window, creating a warm glow throughout the room. Where was he? His attention returned to the laughter. It was coming through the doorway of an adjoining room. He couldn't see into the room from where he lay, but the sound was loud and clear. In a moment, it was joined by another, deeper, fuller laugh, so full of joy it made Sam smile to hear it. Then he frowned in confusion. Gandalf? It sounded exactly like the old wizard's laugh. But how could that be? Gandalf was dead, wasn't he? His question was answered when he heard his beloved Frodo's voice cry out the wizard's name! Sam lay quietly in his bed wondering what this meant.  
  
A few moments later, more sounds came through the door and quickly Sam identified the voices of Merry, Pippin, Legolas, Gimli, and Aragorn. They were all there! All safe! For a moment, Sam was tempted to leap up and join the reunion, but suddenly, he felt shy and reluctant. As much as he dearly wanted to see Frodo and his former companions, after being with no one but his master for so long, Sam felt strangely uncomfortable about being with others. He had never felt as at ease with big people as had the other Hobbits and for the moment, he was content to wait. He lay back and decided to close his eyes for just a moment, but soon, he was again fast asleep.  
  
Frodo could not believe his eyes. Gandalf was alive! Merry and Pippin had raced into his room and were now leaping about on his bed in a joyous reunion. A few moments later, Gimli the Dwarf's booming laugh echoed throughout the chamber. He was soon followed by a more reserved Legolas and Aragorn, both of whom looked delighted to see him. Frodo felt as if he were in the middle of a dream. Wasn't it just moments ago that he and Sam were marooned in the middle of a sea of lava? Suddenly, he froze. Sam! Eyes wide, he began searching frantically about the room. Where was he? With growing alarm, Frodo turned to Gandalf who simply smiled and laid a comforting hand on Frodo's shoulder.  
  
"Sam is fine," Gandalf said quietly. "He still sleeps in the next room. You were both on the very brink of death when you were brought here. He should wake up some time today or perhaps tomorrow. You Hobbits are hardy creatures!"  
  
With a sigh of relief, Frodo relaxed back onto the soft pillows. It was then he noticed the bulky bandages encasing his left hand. So it was all true. Somehow, laying here in this sunny chamber, his friends all around, Frodo was finding it hard to believe that his last waking memories had been of Mordor. That almost seemed more of a dream to him now or rather the worst of nightmares.  
  
Gandalf chased everyone off but Merry and Pippin, who absolutely refused to go. Shaking his head with a chuckle, Gandalf went to arrange for some food deciding that what Frodo really needed most was to simply be with his cousins.  
  
"We couldn't believe you were still alive!" Merry was saying. "After Mt. Doom exploded and all of Mordor collapsed, we were sure you and Sam were dead."  
  
"Even when Gandalf came back with you, we still figured you must be dead," agreed Pippin solemnly. "You both looked so awful!"  
  
Frodo glanced towards the room where he was told Sam was sleeping. "It was awful," he replied in a low voice. "And I can honestly say that I never could have done it without Sam. He was the only reason the quest was successful. I doubt anyone will truly understand how important he is! " He then grinned happily at his cousins. "Now, tell me about what you have been doing!"  
  
The next time Sam awoke, it was to the enticing, smoky smell of bacon. He heard his stomach growl loudly followed the sounds of quiet laughter. Cautiously, he opened his eyes and there by his bedside sat Frodo, holding what was obviously a well stocked breakfast tray. Behind Frodo, stood Pippin and Merry beaming down at him. "It's about time you woke up, you sleepyhead!" laughed Frodo again. "I've been waiting since yesterday for you to come round! You'd think after sleeping for a solid two weeks, you would have slept more than enough!"  
  
Sam just blinked at him in confusion. "Mr. Frodo? Two weeks?" He shook his head as if to clear it. "I..I don't understand!" The other Hobbits laughed again. Merry moved forward to help Sam sit up as Frodo carefully lowered the tray onto his lap.  
  
"We're in Minas Tirith, Sam!" said Frodo with a grin. "Gandalf and the Eagles rescued us from Mt. Doom. We've been in some kind of healing sleep for two weeks! I know, I couldn't believe it either when they told me! I woke up yesterday morning and have been waiting for you ever since!"  
  
Sam stared dumbfounded at his master. He didn't think he'd heard Frodo say so much at one time since they'd left the Shire. He felt his heart soar with joy as he looked at Frodo's smiling face. Yes, he was still thin and pale, but his eyes were bright and clear. There were no shadows lurking there. He smiled back at his friends, still shaking his head bemusedly. "Two weeks you say? Well, who would have thought I could sleep so long! My old Gaffer would have a thing or two to say about that!" He then laughed and without further ado, began a systematic attack on the breakfast tray.  
  
He was up soon after that and before he knew it, he and Frodo found themselves at places of honor at Aragorn's table later that very night. There were so many glittering lords and ladies that Sam found himself befuddled. He was seated on the left side of Aragorn (Sam still had a difficult time thinking of him as a king) with Faramir on his other. He was thrilled to find Captain Faramir had survived the war. Earlier, Pippin had explained to Sam how Faramir brought the first word of Frodo and Sam since the Fellowship had broken at Amon Hen. With some surprise, Sam spotted Pippin and Merry in the livery of Gondor and Rohan serving the high table. Everyone seemed to recognize them and called greetings to the congenial Hobbits.  
  
Despite all the honor being bestowed upon them, Sam felt overwhelmed. Never comfortable with big people at the best of times, being in a banquet hall full of them was almost more than he could bear. Frodo looked sympathetically at his gardener friend from time to time, but Frodo didn't seem fazed by the situation in the least. Self consciously, Sam huddled lower into his chair, playing with the food on his plate. He peered at the people seated around them. Those that noticed him at all, smiled kindly in response, but there was one woman who did not seem to appreciate having the halfling seated at her table. Scowling down her patrician nose at the uncomfortable Hobbit, her lips were pressed tightly together in obvious disapproval. Sam found himself hunching even lower in his chair. He hoped the dinner would end soon.  
  
When the banquet was over and the guests were slowly making their way to the ballroom, Sam looked around for an opportunity to slip away. He felt exhausted and had no desire mingle freely with all the different people. He could hear Pippin and Merry singing one of their innumerable tavern songs much to the boisterous approval of the crowd. Frodo sat with Gandalf, Aragorn, and several of the tall, blonde people Sam had been told came from Rohan. Sam made his way to the edge of the ballroom, figuring that would be the easiest way to find the door. As he moved through the crowd, he found himself blocked by a deep blue velvet gown. Looking up, he saw to his dismay it was the disapproving woman. She looked down at Sam as if he were some sort of foul smelling vermin that should be removed immediately. She quickly moved out his way, continuing to glare at the confused Hobbit. His face burning with embarrassment, Sam scurried away and out the door.  
  
Sam breathed a great sigh of relief as soon as he reached the outdoors. The cool night air refreshed him. With a brief backwards glance, Sam stuffed his hands deep into his pockets and hurried away from the palace, the sounds of the ball falling away behind him.  
  
When he finally reached his chamber, Sam wearily climbed onto his bed and lay staring up into the darkness. He thought about the day's events. He had certainly enjoyed reuniting with the other members of the Fellowship. He thought perhaps they had seemed almost as happy to see him as they had been to see Frodo. He considered the banquet and ball and his thoughts strayed to the strange woman. Why did she seem to dislike him so much? Maybe she just didn't care for Hobbits. He frowned. No, that wasn't right. He had seen her talking to Frodo, Merry and Pippin at one point and appeared to enjoy their company. It just seemed to be him she didn't like. Well, maybe he wouldn't see her again. It was a big city after all. He closed his eyes and as his exhaustion finally overtook him, he fell asleep. 


	2. Lady Uzelle

Thanks for the reviews everyone!  
  
Laurasjlr: Well, this should at least explain why the lady doesn't like Sam! She's first and foremost an insufferable snob! I look forward to more of your new story!  
  
Hey Samwise the Strong: Yeah, there's more. I tend to write fairly lengthy stories, as you know! Don't know how long this one will end up being, though. I'm currently up to chapter 10!  
  
Aly: Thanks for the review (BTW, LOVE the dance!). I hope you enjoy this story as much as the others. Can't have too many Sam stories (I actually planned on writing one about Merry, but since I found this one again, figured I'd just go with it!).  
  
Althea: I did debate for a long time about posting this story. I don't think it's bad or anything just different! I hope you continue to enjoy it!  
  
DISCLAIMER: For some reason, I always forget this in the first chapter! The characters and story of Lord of the Rings are not mine, but the exclusive property and creation of JRR Tolkien.  
  
Chapter 2 Lady Uzelle  
  
Frodo had been having such a wonderful time; it was quite some time before he realized Sam was gone. It had been so long since the Ringbearer had been able to relax and enjoy himself that he wanted to savor every minute of this delightful merry making. He laughed as he watched Merry and Pippin singing their favorite tavern songs, teaching the laughing audience the choruses to some of the more raucous ones.  
  
"It certainly is good to see you laugh again, Frodo," smiled Gandalf warmly. "It has been much too long!"  
  
Frodo took a long drink of ale and leaned back in his chair. "It feels wonderful!" he exclaimed, a weary smile on his face. "I feel as if the weight of the world has been lifted from my shoulders!" He took another swig of ale, then surveyed the boisterous room before him. Everyone seemed to be having a marvelous time. Gradually, Frodo's grin was replaced by a troubled frown. "Where is Sam?" he asked suddenly sitting straight in his chair looking about for his friend.  
  
His companions stood up from the table and did their best to peer through the amorphous crowd. Aragorn, Gandalf, and Eomer, who also sat with them, began to work through the people, trying to track down the missing gardener.  
  
"Oh he left some time ago, my lord," replied a guard at the door in response Aragorn's question. "He looked exhausted and none too happy, poor lad. Appeared to me like the party was a bit too much for the little fellow." Aragorn nodded. It would seem that Sam had simply retired early. It probably had been too much for him, after all he had just awakened from his long sleep. Aragorn turned and reported back to Frodo.  
  
"I think it is perhaps time you too retired," said Gandalf thoughtfully. "You and Sam both were very close to death and have just barely risen from your beds. We would not want you to overdo. In addition, I believe I would feel better if we made certain Samwise returned safely to his chamber." Frodo nodded, feeling reluctant to leave, but more concerned for the safety of his friend.  
  
The next few weeks were full of activities as the city prepared for the king's coronation. The Hobbits were often invited to banquets and soirees held in honor of the coronation and the success of Frodo's Quest. However, not all the Hobbits seemed equally welcomed. Sam noticed more and more frequently that when he attended one of these events at Frodo's side, the other guests often ignored him. Once, while seated at a dinner table, the footman passed right over him and it wasn't until Frodo spoke up that the man acknowledged Sam's presence and served him his dinner. Sam certainly did not crave the limelight. He was content to remain in the background and let the other Hobbits garner the attention, but even he didn't like being treated as if he didn't exist. Thus, he was increasingly reluctant to attend these public events.  
  
On the eve of Aragorn's coronation, there was to be held the biggest ball yet. Everyone of importance was to be invited. Everyone, that is, but Samwise Gamgee. One cool evening, Sam was walking down the road through one of the upper tiers of the city, when an elaborately carved sedan chair, carried by four muscular footmen pulled up along side him. Sam stopped in surprise when he heard a voice call his name.  
  
"Master Gamgee!" He turned and found himself facing the unpleasant woman from the first ball. She was leaning through the small window in the door peering down her long nose at him. Sam had noticed her at several events since, but she seemed to make a point of ignoring him completely. "Master Gamgee!" she called again. "Might I have a word with you?" Hesitantly, Sam approached the enclosed conveyance. Another footman appeared, opened the door and lowered the steps leading inside. Reluctantly now, Sam climbed in.  
  
The woman studied him coldly, Her shrewd eyes missed nothing, noting his simple clothes and shy, uncomfortable manner. She waited until the door was closed before speaking. "Master Gamgee," she began abruptly, "Do you know who I am?"  
  
Sam, his eyes lowered nervously, glanced up at her and shook his head. "No, my lady, I... I'm afraid I don't."  
  
"I am Lady Uzelle, wife of Lord Angarhad, the wealthiest and most influential man in this city, besides the King, of course and perhaps Lord Faramir. I am in charge of organizing the pre-coronation banquet next week. I am sure you are aware of it?"  
  
Puzzled, Sam nodded again. He looked up into the woman's face as if hoping for a clue that would help him understand what was going on here. She sighed impatiently, shaking her head. "Master Gamgee, let me get straight to the point. In your homeland, I believe that you are a, uh, gardener. Is that correct?"  
  
This was getting stranger with every passing minute. Did she want him trim her hedges? "Yes, my lady," he replied slowly. "I work for Mr. Frodo tending his gardens at Bag End."  
  
The woman smiled disdainfully. "Yes, that is what I had heard." she said with a note of triumph in her voice. "Master Gamgee, I do not know if you are aware of it, but here in Minas Tirith, we have established very firm boundaries between what is acceptable behavior in a servant and what is not. For example, for a servant to attend a formal function as a guest, even at the behest of his master is not acceptable behavior. Do you understand?" Sam stared at her outright now. What did she mean?  
  
Lady Uzelle rolled her eyes at Sam's look of confusion. This just confirmed her opinion that Frodo Baggin's manservant was not especially intelligent. "What I am saying," she said slowly, "Is that you are not invited to the ball. Have you not noticed that people are less than welcoming when you show up with your master?" Sam's face burned. "Well, I wish to avoid further embarrassment for us all, especially you, Master Gamgee," she added, trying to sound kindly. She failed miserably. Her message came across loud and clear. Because he was a gardener back home, he was nothing more than the hired help in this woman's eyes. It didn't matter to her that he was a hero of Middle Earth, he was first and foremost a servant and not welcome in her world.  
  
Again, Sam felt his face grow hot with humiliation. He had never been treated like this in his entire life. It was true that he didn't come from the upper echelons of Hobbit society like Mr. Frodo or Merry and Pippin, but he had always been treated well by them. Obviously the members of Minas Tirith society did not wish to fraternize with the "help". "I...I understand, my lady," mumbled Sam miserably. He stared at his hands fighting back the tears burning in his eyes. He really didn't care about attending the ball, but he was very tired of being rejected.  
  
"Good," she said smiling thinly. "I am sure you will be able to explain things to your master." Sitting back on her velvet cushion, she rapped on the wall signaling the footman to open the door. Sam hurriedly clambered out and retreated to the side of the road. The footmen, bearing their heavy burden, continued on their way. Head hanging and shoulders slumped. Sam slowly turned and made his way back towards his rooms as the long shadows of night reached out to him. 


	3. A Shattered Heart

Wow! What a lot of reviews! Who would have thought insulting Sam would bring such a rabid response! LOL! Thanks everyone! Your reviews are very welcome and much appreciated! Anyway, here is the next installment in poor Sam's unhappy life.  
  
Chapter 3 A Shattered Heart  
  
Frodo joined Gandalf for dinner later that night. Sam had begged off, claiming he wasn't feeling well. Indeed, he hadn't looked well, Frodo thought with some concern. He had been pale and silent, hardly responding to any of Frodo's questions. Frodo sighed. Hopefully Sam would feel better in the morning.  
  
"I am uncertain as to what is troubling Sam," frowned Frodo as he picked at his food. "He appeared well when he went out for a walk earlier, but when he returned, he didn't seem himself at all. He would hardly speak to me or even look at me. He kept repeating that he must be coming down with something." Frodo looked up into Gandalf's attentive face. "It seems to me, that Sam has been growing less content the longer we remain in Minas Tirith."  
  
Pipe in hand, Gandalf sat silently for a moment, deep in his thoughts. "I believe you are right," he said finally, blowing a delicate ring of smoke, "I believe that dear Samwise would like nothing better than to return to his gardens at Bag End. Your journey was hard on you both and now, Sam is feeling its affects. I think he is at a loss as to what to do now that you are both safe. He has lost his purpose and that is most difficult for someone as dedicated as Sam. He needs to feel needed. That is his reason for existence. "  
  
Frodo nodded with a rueful smile. "Yes, that is most certainly true. Sam does not enjoy being idle and since I am no longer being pursued by agents of the Dark Lord or Gollum, there hasn't been much for him to do. I am content to rest and read from the libraries here, but that doesn't interest Sam."  
  
"Well," replied Gandalf knocking the ash from his pipe, "I will think on this. Perhaps between us we can find something for your gardener to do. In the meantime, I am sure he will be fine!"  
  
Later Gandalf walked Frodo back to his room through the drizzling rain. The wizard thought it might be wise to look in on Sam to make sure he was alright. When they reached Frodo's room, they took a quick look into Sam's and saw the gardener sleeping soundly in his bed. Gandalf glanced down at Frodo and was warmed by the Hobbit's affectionate smile for his sleeping friend. "Sam was truly amazing," said Frodo as they quietly returned to his room. "Gollum would have been the death of me if it had not been for Sam."  
  
With a start, Sam woke. Blinking, he lay there sleepily, unsure what had roused him when he heard his name. Becoming more alert, he realized someone was talking in the adjacent room. It was Frodo. Sam found himself inadvertently listening in on what was obviously a private conversation.  
  
"It was awful. I should never have allowed him to come." He heard Frodo say. "I could not get away from him! Every time I turned around, I knew he was there, watching me, following me, taking stock of every little thing I said or did. Constantly saying he understood what I was going through! Saying he just wanted to help." Sam frowned. Who was he talking about?  
  
"But each time I looked at him,"continued Frodo bitterly, "I was reminded of everything I had to lose – the Shire, Bag End, Bilbo, even myself." He paused for a moment as if in thought. "I did try to get rid of him once, but of course he came back. He never would leave me alone." Sam felt a cold lump forming in the pit of his stomach. "I thought when I awoke here, I would be free of him. Surely, Mt. Doom should have been the end of him. But no, even here he has followed me, as he will to the Shire. He will be with me for the rest of my days, reminding me of this whole nightmare. Of my failure." He paused again, then with a voice full of heart wrenching pain, Sam heard him cry out, "Why could he not have just remained in Orodruin and left me in peace!?"  
  
Sam felt hot, then cold as a wave of nausea washed over him. There was only one person Frodo could possibly be talking about – him! Samwise Gamgee! Did Frodo honestly wish Sam had not returned alive from Mt. Doom? Suddenly, Sam felt as if he couldn't breathe. The air in the room felt devoid of oxygen and the walls were closing in. Blindly, he crawled out of his bed, doing his best not to alert the others in the next room. Fumbling in the dark, he threw on some clothing, then climbed out the large window into the courtyard beyond.  
  
It was raining harder now, but Sam was so numb it barely registered. For a moment, he had absolutely no idea where he was. He looked around and saw he was standing in an expansive courtyard paved with stone. The large white tree, gnarled and bare in death, stood as a silent sentinel in the center. Without thinking, Sam just began to walk. He felt dizzy and shaky on his feet, but all he really wanted to do was just get away and think. As he approached the center of the courtyard, he saw several tall guards, resplendent in their winged helms, standing motionless around the white tree. They seemed oblivious to the increasing rain. As he passed the nearest one, the man glanced at him, but made no move to stop the devastated Hobbit.  
  
Through the rain Sam stumbled. All he could hear were Frodo's words echoing over and over in his head:"Why could he not have just remained in Orodruin and left me in peace!?"It was like a knife twisting in faithful Samwise's heart. All he had wanted was to help Frodo, was that so wrong? Apparently so. Sam found himself walking down a long outcrop of rock, jutting way out in front of the city, splitting it in two. When Sam reached the end, he stood looking through a break in the wall which allowed him an unrestricted view of the Pellenor Fields and beyond. Tears silently rolled down his pale cheeks mixing with the droplets of rain. He could see the flames of Mt. Doom glowing beyond the Ash Mountains. Again, a wave of nausea rolled over him as memories of that placed assaulted him, causing him to clutch the edge of the wall for support. Looking down, he froze. There was nothing but huge, jagged rocks between him and the ground. As he stood there staring, a strange lassitude came over him. What would it matter if he took just a step or two more? It would certainly grant Frodo his wish as well as that horrid Lady Uzelle's. Sam would be relieved of the pain of his shattered heart. Peace would be his at last. 


	4. Into the Void

I apologize if you keep getting this chapter! For some reason, when I uploaded the revised version of this chapter, the original one showed up! I hope this works right this time! Argh!  
  
Sorry for the delay in the update! This weekend has been very busy! But here it is and hopefully you all will enjoy it. I posted this last night, but took it off this morning to make a few minor changes. So, if you read it already, sorry!  
  
Thanks so much for all the wonderful reviews!  
  
FrodoBaggins87: Well, I hope this is dramatic enough! I also hope this explains where Frodo was really coming from in his conversation with Gandalf. I took your advice and but in another line of ***! I hope that makes the story a little clearer! Thanks!  
  
Gamgeefest: Well, Uzelle isn't in this chapter, but we're not entirely done with her yet! LOL! She really has done a number on poor Sam's self esteem!  
  
Althea: Well, there is lots more to come (maybe too much)! He certainly is having a rough time (but if he wasn't it wouldn't be my story!).  
  
Brownwyn: Maybe we can get poor Sam some prozac! That might help!  
  
Laurajslr: Well, I figured it would take a lot to make Sam leave. He's not given to taking off on a whim, so I figured he needed a big push!  
  
Szhismine: Hey! You OK!? Wake up! Here's the next chapter!  
  
Sam: Well, poor Sam was in a rather fragile state of mind when he overheard Frodo. He was already feeling pretty low. Poor guy!  
  
Lotr_and_potc: Thanks for reading and reviewing (I am also a huge fan of POTC)!  
  
Crimson-dawn 123: Thank you so much for your kind words! I am always thrilled to hear someone has enjoyed reading my stories! I truly appreciate the reviews! I hope you will continue to read!  
  
Saiyan: Thank you for your review! I'm so pleased you enjoy the story (and the cliff hanger! LOL!). I hope you continue to enjoy this one!  
  
Chapter 4 Into the Void  
  
In his bed, safe in his chamber, Frodo shook his head and sighed. "I honestly thought I could save Smeagol," he continued sadly looking up at Gandalf sitting quietly by. "Yes, he betrayed me more than once and Sam despised him, with good reason, but in the end, he saved us all. I couldn't destroy the Ring. It had completely taken me over by then. If Gollum hadn't taken it from me, all would have been lost." He absently played with the bandages still covering his left hand, replaying those last moments in Sammath Naur in his head. "Sam saved me then," he said distantly then gave a small laugh. "He rescued me more times than I can count!" He turned to the wizard beside him. "The best thing you ever did Gandalf, was to send Samwise Gamgee to watch out for me!" Frodo looked away again, gave a small sigh and closed his eyes. "In my mind, I think I will always hear Gollum's weaseling voice and see his horrid, leering face. He'll never truly leave me alone"  
  
Gandalf smiled fondly at the Hobbit. "You have suffered through the most difficult journey of all, Frodo. But, I think in time, even Gollum will leave you in peace." He laid his hand gently on Frodo's arm. He turned suddenly as he felt a cold draft coming from the adjacent room. Standing, the puzzled wizard picked up a candle from the bedside and walked over to the door of the adjoining room. Quietly he stepped in and made his way over to Sam's bed. It was oddly silent in the room.  
  
Frowning, Gandalf stared at the empty bed. Quickly looking around the room for any sign of the missing Hobbit, he noticed the open window. Gandalf immediately realized Sam must have gone out that way. The question was, why?  
  
*************************************************  
  
Sam had no idea how long he stood there at the end of the causeway staring into the void below. The drizzle had turned into a torrent now. He was mesmerized by the lines of rain as they traced their downward paths, disappearing into the gloom below. Following them would be so easy, he though distantly. So easy. "Sam?" Sam blinked. A vaguely familiar voice called his name again, a bit more insistently. "Sam!" Startled, Sam whirled around and in surprise, spied an elf perhaps twenty feet away. Sam stared at him, then stepping backwards, he lost his balance as his feet slipped on the slick stones. With a gasp, he felt the brittle stone beneath his feet give way and without a word, he disappeared over the edge. "Sam!" he heard the voice cry again, only now it was full of fear. It was the last sound he heard.  
  
Silence enveloped him and it was if everything around Sam had frozen in time. He could feel himself falling backwards into the void, with nothing to stop him. Sam realized what was happening as he felt the cool, moist air rush around him, yet he felt oddly detached, as if this had been inevitable and there was nothing he could do to stop it. He closed his eyes and surrendered to his fate. Then, an unexpected flash of sharp pain exploded in his side and he dimly realized he was no longer falling. Things were no longer peaceful and silent. The rain was drenching him in unbridled torrents now and he felt so cold. Thunder rumbled in the distance and again, he heard someone calling his name.  
  
Sam reluctantly opened his eyes and realized he had landed on a sharp outcrop of rock that protruded no more than a few feet from the sheer face of the cliff. However, the outcrop slanted dangerously to the side and he could feel himself starting to slide. Desperately, his fingers scrabbled for any purchase but it wasn't until his shirt caught on a rocky protuberance that his decent was halted. Panting, he moved gingerly and gasped at the pain in his ribs. Sam, fearing he would slip further from his precarious perch, remained as still as possible, not even daring to signal the person above he was alive. "Samwise Gamgee," he muttered angrily to himself, "You've gotten yourself into a real pickle this time and that's a fact!" However, that small, insidious voice inside him again asked what difference would it make if he did continue to fall? Wouldn't that solve everything? But the lassitude that had enveloped Sam earlier was gone. His instinctive desire to survive had taken over and now that he was in mortal peril, he had no wish to fall any further.  
  
Legolas had spotted the small figure standing at the far end of the causeway and as he approached, was surprised to discover it was Sam. Why was the hobbit standing alone in the night, in the pouring rain, at the edge of a cliff? It made no sense! The elf hurried forward and called Sam's name. In horror, he watched helplessly as the startled hobbit whirled around, then stepping backwards, disappeared over the edge of the precipice. "Sam!" he cried in horror, sprinting to the cliff's edge. He skidded to a halt and peered into the abyss. "Sam!" he cried again even more frantically, trying to spot the fallen hobbit. How could this have happened!? Then, he saw him – a small figure precariously perched on a small outcropping of rock perhaps twenty feet below. Could he still be alive? Legolas could detect no movement, but alive or dead, he knew he must act quickly. Sam could easily slip from his treacherous position and Legolas was certain that if the hobbit wasn't dead now, falling further would certainly be the end of him. He had to hope Sam was still alive.  
  
"Sam!" he called again, hoping the hobbit could hear him. "Hold on! I will return soon!" Legolas wheeled around and loped back towards the hall. He needed to find rope and some help if he were to rescue Samwise.  
  
He returned a short time later with Gimli hurrying at his heels. "Are you sure he's not dead?" the dwarf asked gruffly as he spied Sam below.  
  
Legolas shook his head as he tied the rope around the leg of a heavy stone bench. "It does not matter," he replied tying the other end around his waist. "I must retrieve him!" Gimli nodded, wiping the rain from his face. He then took firm hold on the rope and carefully lowered the elf down the face of the cliff. At the prearranged signal, the burly dwarf would pull them up.  
  
Legolas soon made his way to Sam's position. He looked vainly for a secure place to set his feet. "Sam?" he cried against the roar of the heavy rain, "Can you hear me?" Legolas felt a great rush of relief when he saw Sam's head briefly nod. The elf studied their position. He was still a little ways above Sam. There was nowhere on the outcropping he felt was safe enough for him to stand. The outcrop slanted so much, that he wasn't sure what was keeping Sam from sliding off. This worried him greatly. The incessant rain made everything so slippery and he feared any sudden movement could prove disastrous. He signaled Gimli to lower him a little further until he was almost even with Sam, then he nimbly pushed himself so that he swung away to the side closest to Sam's head. He decided he would simply grab hold of Sam's shirt and pull him off the precipice. Once the hobbit was safely in Legolas' arms, Gimli could haul them to safety.  
  
Sam's eyes were tightly closed. He hated heights and he knew if he looked down from where he was, panic would overcome him. His breathing came in short, pain-filled gasps and he was shaking uncontrollably now. He gave a small whimper when he felt the button on his shirt give way and he slid a few inches further until the last button caught. When that one was gone, there would be nothing to keep him from sliding off. He dug his fingers into the edge of the outcrop, but the fragile stone practically disintegrated under the least pressure. It would never hold him. In fact, the entire outcrop felt very unstable. He had all but decided his situation was hopeless when he heard a voice call out to him, "Sam? Can you hear me?" It was Legolas! Sam gave a small nod to indicate that he had heard the elf, then gave a small sigh of relief. That was all it took.  
  
The last button on Sam's shirt snapped off and Sam felt himself sliding uncontrollably off the outcrop. He looked up and through the torrent, spied Legolas' swinging towards him, reaching out and just as Sam felt his body leave the relative security of the stone, the elf snagged the collar of Sam's shirt, halting his descent. "Hold on, Sam!" he heard Legolas cry. Then, with one powerful motion, Legolas was able to pull Sam up to him and enfolded the hobbit tightly in his embrace. Sam grabbed him tightly around the neck, now shaking violently. Legolas gave the signal, and slowly, the two rose to the top of the cliff.  
  
Gimli gave a sigh of relief as Legolas and Sam scrambled over the edge of the cliff and onto firm ground. He hurried over as Legolas lay Sam onto the grass. "Is he alright?" demanded Gimli kneeling by the hobbit's side.  
  
"I...I'm fine!' coughed Sam weakly but immediately gasped in pain at the sharp pain in his ribs. Legolas and Gimli exchanged worried glances.  
  
"Well, laddie," grunted Gimli, "I dinna know what you were doin' out here, but 'tis high time we got you out of the rain and somewhere warm and dry. I suspect you might have done a wee bit o' damage to those ribs of yours!"  
  
Wincing at the pain and still shivering violently, Sam slowly sat up. He felt so stupid and his face was now burning with embarrassment. What must they think of him, standing out here in the pouring rain? And then to go and fall of the cliff! He buried his aching head in his hands. This was undoubtedly the very worst day of his life.  
  
Legolas removed his Lothlorien cloak and carefully draped it about Sam's shivering shoulders. "You should not be out here, Sam" scolded Legolas shaking his head. "Come, let us return to your chamber." Legolas gently lifted Sam and carried him away from the dangerous ledge and towards the palace. With a worried glance towards the precipice, the Elf continued to speak to the silent Hobbit, hoping to get some response, but Sam remained mute. Legolas carried Sam through a pair of large doors and down a plain stone corridor. Gimli followed, wringing the water out of his bristling beard. As they came near the end, they could hear raised voices wafting from an open door. Light poured through the open doorway, inviting them in.  
  
"Where could he be?" Legolas heard Frodo's voice rising in growing alarm. "Why would he run off?" Legolas looked down at Sam. He could feel the Hobbit still shivering uncontrollably, his face hidden by the hood of Legolas' cloak.  
  
"Is this who you are looking for?" asked Legolas loudly. Frodo was standing in the doorway between the two rooms, red spots of excitement on his pale cheeks. Gandalf stood beside him. They both looked up as the Elf stepped into the room, a pale, shivering Sam firmly held in his grasp and Gimli just behind.  
  
"Sam!" cried Frodo in both fear and relief, moving towards his friend. "Where have you been? Are you alright?"  
  
"I'm fine, Mr. Frodo," Sam mumbled, refusing to meet anyone's eyes. He looked fixedly at his hands. Gandalf glanced over at Legolas. The elf's troubled face sent a cold chill down the wizard's spine.  
  
"I believe Sam may have injured some ribs in a fall," said Legolas simply. Gandalf's eyes narrowed, then nodding turned and led Legolas into the adjacent room. Legolas gently laid Sam on the bed, wincing slightly at Sam's sharp cries of pain. He and Gandalf stripped the hobbit out of his sodden clothing while Gimli brought in towels and more warm blankets. Frodo hovered worriedly nearby.  
  
"Well," said Gandalf after carefully examining Sam's ribs, "I think you may have broken a few and cracked a few others. The rest are badly bruised. You will be more than a bit sore for the next few weeks, Master Gamgee!" Sam was shaking so badly that Gandalf decided that any questions would keep til morning.  
  
"Frodo," said Gandalf quietly, keeping his eyes on Sam, "Will you please bring Sam some hot tea. We need to get this silly halfling warmed up." Frodo nodded slowly, returning a few moments later with a steaming cup. Gandalf took it from him and added a few drops from a vial he produced from the folds of his robes. "This should make him more comfortable and help him sleep. Make sure he drinks it all!" Frodo nodded again and sat down next to his friend. He was very confused!  
  
Gandalf led the elf and dwarf into the next room, then turned to Legolas. "What happened? Where did you find him?"  
  
Legolas fingered with his wet cloak absently. "I saw him standing on the very edge of the precipice overlooking the Pelennor Fields," he said quietly. "I called his name and saw him turn suddenly and then..." he hesitated, glancing over towards Gimli, "It looked to me as if he purposefully stepped off the cliff."  
  
Gandalf just stared at him, his brow furrowed in concern. "Stepped off the cliff?" he repeated in shocked disbelief. "On purpose? Whatever gave you that idea?"  
  
Legolas sighed. "He was but a pace or two from the edge. When I first approached him, I called him by name. He did not respond, but stood as one mesmerized, staring down at the drop. When I looked upon his face, I felt my heart grow cold. A bleaker expression I cannot recall. Sam looked as if every loved one he had ever known had been ripped from him. It was a look of utter despair! I called him several more times before he finally looked at me. I am not certain he even realized who I was at first. Then, he stepped backwards over the edge. If he had not miraculously landed on a small outcrop, he would most certainly be dead."  
  
Gandalf slowly sat down, shaking his head. "What did he say?" he finally asked, looking up at the elf. "Did he say why he was there?"  
  
Legolas shook his head. "No." he replied grimly, "He barely said a word." He stood silent for a moment, then spoke again. "Gandalf, I truly believe that he intended to step off that cliff. I do not believe it was an accident."  
  
Gandalf ran his fingers through his snow white hair. This made absolutely no sense at all! Hobbits were not known to commit suicide. That just wasn't their way. Besides, what on earth would drive Sam to such a drastic act? He and Frodo had both returned from Mordor alive. Merry and Pippin were well, as were the remaining members of the Fellowship. Gandalf was at a loss as to why Sam would even consider such a drastic act. Perhaps he was still in shock from his experiences in Mordor. Somehow that made the most sense. He would have a private talk with Sam as soon as he got the chance.  
  
**************************************************  
  
After Sam was securely tucked into bed and had finished his tea, Frodo stood before him, hands on hips. "Whatever did you think you were doing, Samwise Gamgee?" he demanded angrily. "What happened? Why did you crawl out of the window like a common thief? "  
  
Sam couldn't bear to look at his master. His thoughts were so confused and the pain from his ribs clouded them further. However, he certainly didn't want Frodo to know that he had overheard his and Gandalf's conversation. He thought fast. "I.. I don't rightly know what I was thinking, Mr. Frodo," he mumbled through chattering teeth. "I guess I was having some kind of dream. I don't even remember climbing out that window.'  
  
Frodo stared at him with a worried frown he wasn't sure he entirely believed Sam's story. Frodo would ask Legolas about what happened later. Right now, Sam just needed rest. "How do you feel now?" he asked more gently.  
  
"Oh, I'm fine now!" Sam hastily assured him trying not to wince. "It was naught but a bit of sleep walking. Probably from too much rich food and all! My ribs hardly hurt at all!" Frodo nodded slowly, but was not entirely convinced. He was certain that all was not right with his friend. 


	5. A Dark Depression

Thanks so much to you all for your wonderful reviews! Sorry I don't have time to thank you all personally this time (just got back from a 4 hr play rehearsal!), but every one of your reviews mean so much to me! They truly make my day!  
  
This isn't one of those "action packed" chapters, but one that still needed to be included. Kind of melodramatic, I guess! Oh well! Anyway, I hope you enjoy it!  
  
Chapter 5 A Dark Depression  
  
The next morning dawned bright and clear. Sam lay in his bed as he watched the early morning light play across the wall of his bedroom. There was a crushing heaviness pressing down on his heart. Despite Gandalf's potion, Sam felt as if he had hardly slept at all that night. The harsh and painful words of Frodo and Lady Uzelle kept circling around in his aching head. Could Mr. Frodo really have meant those terrible things he'd said? He couldn't bear the thought of Mr. Frodo rejecting him on top of everyone else in Minas Tirith. He was the most important person in Sam's life. Sighing miserably as he wiped a few errant tears from his face, Sam rose slowly, gritting his teeth against the throbbing pain in his ribs. He sat on the edge of his bed, hunched over as the sharp pain took his breath away. "Sam!" Sam dimly heard a voice call his name. He looked up to find Frodo standing before him, glaring. "Samwise Gamgee! What on earth do you think you are doing!?" Frodo demanded in exasperation moving to help Sam lay back down. "You are ordered to remain in this bed! Aragorn said he will come check on you this morning and until he says otherwise, you are to stay put! Do you understand?"  
  
Sam, his eyes closed as he waited for the throbbing pain to subside, gave a small nod. He was drenched in a cold sweat now and his breath came in short, painful gasps. Anything deeper was agonizing. When he opened his eyes again, he was startled to see Frodo staring at him with such anger in his face! The moment Frodo realized Sam was looking at him, his expression changed to one of utmost concern. "See, Samwise," thought Sam dismally, "You did hear right. He's not happy you're here." He turned his head and looked away, unable to bear the sight of Frodo's false sympathy any longer.  
  
Frodo shook his head as he studied his friend. He loved Sam as deeply as a brother, but right now, he was so furious with him! What on earth was going on in that muddled head of his? Frodo had been terrified last night when Legolas and Gimli walked in with Sam soaking wet and looking half dead. Yet, Sam refused to explain his insane behavior! Frodo certainly did not buy that sleepwalking story. Something was very wrong with Samwise, yet he refused to explain himself. That Sam didn't seem to trust Frodo enough to ask for help was both infuriating and hurtful. Sam had protected and cared for him throughout the entire journey and Frodo would do anything in his power to help his friend. If only Sam would let him! Frodo sighed, suppressing his irritation and gently patted Sam's arm. "Now please lie still, Sam" he said beseechingly, "I will go and get you some breakfast." He then turned and quietly left the room.  
  
Sam turned his head again and watched mournfully as Frodo disappeared through the doorway. His mind played out the scenes from the previous night and he felt his face burn as he thought about Legolas finding him standing in the rain like some dimwitted child and then having to rescue him to boot! What a fumble-footed fool they must think him! Just when he didn't think he couldn't possibly feel any worse! The entire Fellowship must have wondered what Gandalf was thinking when he asked Samwise Gamgee to accompany Frodo!  
  
Later that morning, Aragorn came to see him. Sam spent a very uncomfortable twenty minutes as Aragorn gently examined his injured ribs,. "Well, Sam," Aragorn finally said as he began carefully rewrapping Sam's ribs. "I think you will live! You are very lucky that your lung wasn't punctured. These ribs will pain you for some time to come, but I think after a day or two of bed rest, you will be feeling much better!" He tied off the bandages, then sat back to study the forlorn looking gardener. Aragorn realized how little he had seen of Sam lately and was startled to see how thin he had become. Both Sam and Frodo had lost a good deal of weight on their grueling quest and whereas Frodo was beginning to lose his starved look, Aragorn worried that Sam looked thinner than ever.  
  
"Is something bothering you, Sam?" Aragorn asked quietly. Gandalf told him last night what Legolas had said yet Aragorn was finding it hard to fathom. Gandalf also told him that it was probably best not to tell Frodo of Legolas' suspicions. Now, that they were alone, Aragorn was hoping the injured hobbit would open up to him.  
  
Sam blinked in surprise. "N..no, Strider," he stuttered, "I'm fine! I don't know what happened last night. I...I think it was all just a bad dream."  
  
Aragorn cocked his head to one side as he considered this. "What sort of bad dream?" he asked in concern.  
  
Now you've done it, Samwise Gamgee! Sam moaned to himself. Could he possibly be any bigger a fool? Now he was going to have to concoct some sort of dream to explain his wanderings. Pretty soon, it would be impossible to keep all his stories straight! Why couldn't they just leave him alone!  
  
"Um, I can't rightly remember," mumbled Sam uncomfortably. "Something about Mordor, I'm certain!"  
  
Aragorn nodded thoughtfully. "I would not be surprised, Sam. When a person endures the kinds of horrifying experiences that befell you and Frodo, it is not uncommon to visit them again in sleep. I will ask the healers to prepare a sleeping potion that will help guard against such nightmares. Hopefully, you will then get the sleep it is so obvious you need!" He sat silently for a few moments. "Do you recall anything about what happened on the cliff?"  
  
Sam closed his eyes, not wanting Aragorn to see the anguish that lay there. He remembered very clearly standing on the sharp edge, contemplating a quick end to his misery. What would Aragorn think of him then? Suicide was abhorrent to Hobbits and Sam was sure Aragorn would feel likewise. It was an indication of how deep Sam's pain went that the thought of doing away with himself had even crept his mind. He really had slipped accidentally....hadn't he? Sam knew he must answer Aragorn's question, but his secret shame would remain his alone. "I...I don't remember much," he began awkwardly. "Not until I , um, slipped and landed on that rock. That sort of woke me up and the next thing I knew, Mr. Legolas had hold of me, pulling up to the top. As I told Mr. Frodo, I think I must have been walking in my sleep!"  
  
Aragorn looked at him doubtfully, but decided not to press the matter. They would all keep an eye on him over the next few days. He patted Sam's shoulder comfortingly and smiled. "Well, get some rest, Sam" he said quietly. "I do not want you to stir from this bed for the next two days. Do you understand? Then, we will see. I will also make sure someone stays with you at night. No more midnight strolls for you!"  
  
Sam gave him a weak grin and watched in relief as Aragorn strode from the room. He felt humiliated that they felt he needed a guard or rather a babysitter! "Well, it is your own fault, Samwise!" he growled to himself irritably. "With the way you behaved last night, you're lucky they don't lock you up! You are such a fool!"  
  
The next few days passed slowly for Sam. He lay in his bed, bored and in pain. His depression lay on him as a heavy, suffocating blanket. However, he did not want to alarm anyone, so did his best to pretend that all was well and that his strange behavior was not likely to be repeated. He spoke freely with Frodo, Merry and Pippin, acting as if he was as puzzled as they by his sleepwalking. Legolas and Gimli also came by to see him as did Gandalf and Aragorn. Even Faramir stopped by.  
  
"Thank you," Sam said to Legolas, his face flushed with embarrassment, "For saving my life. I don't exactly remember what happened that night, but I know I wouldn't be here if not for you and Mr. Gimli."  
  
Legolas smiled gently at Sam, clasping him on the shoulder, "It was the least we could do for one of the bravest heroes of Middle Earth! None of us would be here now, if not for you and Frodo!" For some reason, that made Sam feel even worse.  
  
Finally, Aragorn and the healers allowed Sam to get up. His ribs were still painful, but moving made him feel better overall. He had been desperate to get out of bed. He walked over the window of his room and gazed disconsolately out onto the courtyard. Really, what he wanted was some time to himself. He was so tired of having to pretend. He just wanted everyone to go away and leave him in peace!  
  
Early the next morning, while those around him slept, Sam quietly slipped out of his room and walked into the city hoping to find some solitude. The streets were almost deserted as the city's inhabitants were just beginning to stir and he wandered aimlessly through one tier after another. The wanton destruction of the beautiful white city seemed to drive Sam even deeper into his growing despondency. He felt as if all the joy had fled from the world. By the time Sam reached the lowest level, he was physically and emotionally exhausted. Mindlessly, he drifted down a deserted alleyway. At the end, he discovered a gate hanging brokenly on its hinges leaving a space too small for a man, but large enough for a Hobbit to slip through. Much to his delight, Sam found it led into a small enclosed garden, unkempt and overgrown, but a garden nonetheless.  
  
Sam cautiously picked his way through the high grass and shrubs. There were several small trees and a ruined gazebo in the center. Sam idly wandered over towards the gazebo and studied it. Part of the roof had collapsed, but the floor was intact, as was part of the seat that ran around the circumference of the structure. Sam slowly climbed the steps and sat wearily on the seat. He doubted anyone would find him here. The warm sun now high overhead made him feel very sleepy. He had secretly stopped taking the healers' sleeping potion, hating the way it made him feel, but then sleep at night was fitful at best. He removed his cloak and bunching it up, made himself a pillow. Then, stretching out on the warm wood, he closed his eyes and fell into a troubled sleep.  
  
Thinking back later, Sam realized that it was during this nap the nightmares first began. As he lay sleeping in the forgotten garden, his dreams were not full of flowers and sunlight, but of darkness, orcs and monstrous spiders. He found himself again in Cirith Ungol searching for his lost master, only this time, Frodo was no where to be found. In his dreams, the stairs went up and up and never ended. He could hear Frodo screaming in pain, crying out for Sam to help him, but Sam could not find him. Suddenly, he found his master standing on the edge of Orodruin, a crazed light in his wild eyes. "Get away from me!" Frodo cried harshly, "I don't want you here! It is you I should cast into the fires, not the Ring! I shall never be free as long as you are alive to plague me! Why didn't you die!?" With a cry of anguish, Sam abruptly awoke bathed in a cold sweat. He was panting and confused. It took him a moment to realize where he was. He swung his feet around and sat up, clutching at his throbbing ribs. Shaking, he leaned back against the gazebo wall and closed his eyes. Then, slowly, first one tear then another seeped from beneath the lids and made their forlorn way down Sam's face.  
  
How long he sat in the garden, he could not say. The sun made its way across the sky until the dark shadows of evening gradually enfolded the garden in their cold embrace. Sam had never felt so low in his entire life. He wondered what he was even doing here in Minas Tirith. Obviously, he wasn't wanted. He had accomplished his part of the quest and now it seemed his usefulness was at an end. There were plenty of people to look after Mr. Frodo now. He sighed heavily thinking it was time to return to his chamber. He had missed breakfast and lunch, yet had no appetite for supper. He slowly rose to his feet, slipped out through the broken gate and trudged back to the upper tiers of the city alone. 


	6. The Coronation Ball

Well, Sam's misery marches on. Here is the next installment in his unhappy life! Thank you so much for taking the time to read and review!  
  
FrodoBaggins87: Here, take this Kleenex! I hope it helps!  
  
Laurajslr: Thanks for reviewing! I like some good angst myself and I swear, this story is just dripping with it!  
  
Merry lad: Thanks for the kind words and encouragement! This story still has a ways to go. I hope you continue to read and enjoy it!  
  
Vana E: I guess I'm just a Sam fan myself. I have read a few Legolas stories, but my heart belongs to Samwise! I might consider putting this one on your site after it's all done. Thanks for the invititation!  
  
Bronwyn: Yeah, Sam is building a pretty big wall around himself! As for his departure, it won't be long now!  
  
Rabidsamfan: Yes, there is light at the end of the tunnel (I think!).  
  
Sam: I felt Sam needed a little something to soothe his aching spirit and a small garden seemed like the best thing!  
  
Lotc_and _potc-rule: Thanks again for reviewing my story! I hope you continue to like as it meanders along!  
  
Frodo16424: Thanks for reviewing! What fun would this story be if Sam didn't have lots of pain to work through! That's what makes angst so much fun (if angst can be called fun!)  
  
Crimson_dawn123: Thank you for your wonderful and encouraging review! I decided when I first tried writing a fanfic that I would not post a story unless I knew I could finish it. I have started reading so many wonderful stories that just disappeared and I vowed not to do that! I have been doing a lot of revising with this story (a lot of it was already written, but since I wrote it some time ago, I've wanted to change things as we've gone along). Anyway, I hope I can maintain the level you've enjoyed so far (and hope I don't make too many gaffes by forgetting to coordinate changes in later chapters!)!  
  
Gamgeefest: Sam does know something is very wrong and is extremely dubious of Sam's "sleep walking" story. He just doesn't know what to do about it since Sam refuses to talk.  
  
Chapter 6 The Coronation Ball  
  
It was dark by the time Sam made his way back to the uppermost level of the city. He was puzzled by all the frantic activity that seemed to be going on. People were bustling everywhere. He had noticed similar activity farther down in the lower levels as well, but he remained out of view by keeping to shadows. No one seemed to notice him as he quietly crept along. Now that he was near his room, he was forced to step out into the open in order to reach the building's entryway. Almost immediately, someone grabbed his arm and cried, "There you are!"  
  
Confused and panicked, Sam struggled to get out of the man's grasp, but the man's grip was like iron. Sam craned his head around trying to get a view of his captor and was surprised to see it was one of Lord Faramir's rangers. "Calm down!" the man said soothingly, "I'm not going to hurt you! Everyone has been searching for you all day!" Sam immediately stopped his struggles and gaped at the man. It had never occurred to him that anyone would be looking for him! The man studied him carefully. "Are you injured?" he asked turning Sam around to face him.  
  
"N..No!" stuttered Sam absently. Why did it not occur to him that being gone all day would stir things up? Now he'd be lucky to ever get any time alone! "I'm fine! I..I just fell asleep, is all." The man stared at him a moment longer, then satisfied Sam wasn't bleeding from some hidden wound, or nursing a broken limb he released the hobbit and stood back.  
  
"Everyone has been worried sick about you, Master Gamgee," the man scolded. "Your master, Frodo, has turned the palace inside out looking for you! Mithrandir and Lord Elessar have spared no effort in the search. Come, let us go find them now and put everyone's mind to rest!"  
  
Head hanging like a naughty schoolboy, Sam reluctantly followed the man into the palace. The man called out to other searchers that he had found the missing hobbit and they all seemed greatly relieved. "Probably just want to get to their dinners," thought Sam morosely, avoiding everyone's eyes. Soon, they reached his and Frodo's quarters. As luck would have it, Frodo and the others had just joined up again after spending the day in fruitless searching.  
  
"Sam!" cried Frodo in relief. "Are you all right!? Where have you been? We have all been so worried about you!" A sense of déjà vu settled over Sam as he remembered a similar reunion just days ago. Why did they all have to treat him like a child? Wasn't he allowed to go off by himself? Unexpected anger began to bubble up from deep within him. The stress and anguish that had absorbed him for so long threatened to erupt. He had had enough. His head snapped up and he glared at Frodo.  
  
"I am fine, Mr. Frodo," he snapped through clenched teeth. "I just went for a walk and fell asleep in a garden. Alright? I didn't run away! I didn't fling myself off some cliff. I ...went...for...a...walk. I think I'm old enough to take care of myself for a few hours. I managed to get you through all of Mordor alive, after all!" He then flung off the man's hand from his shoulder. "I certainly don't think you need to send soldiers out after me! I'm not a criminal nor do I need a babysitter! All I wanted was some time alone! Good night!" The others stared at him in open-mouthed shock. This was so unlike the gentle, good-natured Sam! Sam glared at them all for a few moments more, then spinning on his heel stalked into his bedroom and slammed the door. It was followed by a deafening silence.  
  
Merry turned to Frodo, his eyes wide, "You are right," he said quietly, "Something is definitely wrong with Sam. That's not like him at all!"  
  
"I know!" groaned Frodo collapsing into a nearby chair. "But he won't tell me what is troubling him! In fact, he hardly looks at me anymore, as if the very sight of me pains him!" Frodo buried his face in his hands as a chilling thought came to him: Maybe Sam couldn't bear to be around him after what happened in Orodruin. Maybe the sight of Frodo in the Ring's thrall had truly destroyed Sam's love for him! Could that be the root of Sam's anguish? Frodo was devastated by the thought.  
  
A warm hand gently clasped Frodo's should. Frodo looked up, tears blurring his vision. Gandalf smiled down at him. "Frodo," he said fervently, "This not your doing. Yes, something is obviously hurting Sam, but his love for you is as strong as ever. I can see it in his eyes. Do not blame yourself for this!"  
  
Frodo sighed, but responded with a tight smile. "I do not know what to think anymore, Gandalf. Sam has just been so different lately. I wish he would open up to me and allow me to help!" He sat silently for a few moments then said very softly. "I couldn't bear to lose him."  
  
In the days leading up to the coronation, Sam kept more and more to himself. He hardly slept any more. His dreams were constantly haunted by the horrors of Mordor and the echoes of painful words, so Sam fought sleep. When Frodo was deep in slumber, Sam would often slip out of their room and wander to the end of the causeway again, staring out over the dark fields of Pellenor towards the red glow of Mordor. A guard would usually follow at a discreet distance. Gandalf did not trust Sam alone. Occasionally, Sam would manage to give his tail the slip and make his way into his secret garden. He had struggled to nurture a few lone flowers back to life and they brought the only color into his black moods. He had little appetite and the other Hobbits were growing ever more concerned for their friend.  
  
"We hardly see him anymore," complained Pippin the day before the coronation. The three Hobbits were in Merry's chamber preparing for the ball. Frodo had just informed them that Sam wasn't going. "Why isn't he coming? This is the biggest event in the city!"  
  
Frodo's face was troubled. "He says he doesn't feel well and I can certainly believe that well enough. He looks terrible! I believe he has lost more weight since he woke from our healing sleep. He says his ribs still pain him, but I think that is really just an excuse. When I wake in the morning, he's always gone and he doesn't return until well past breakfast. I'm wondering if he even sleeps at all. He hardly speaks to me or anyone else for that matter. I've been wanting to speak to Gandalf or Aragorn again about him, but they've been so busy, I haven't had a chance. I told Sam this afternoon he should go to the healers, but he wanted no part of that. He keeps saying he's fine."  
  
"Well, he's definitely not fine!" Merry replied firmly. "I saw him this morning for the first time in days. I almost didn't recognize him." He paused for a moment, then said in a low, worried voice, "He looks like he's wasting." The others stared at him in horror. Hobbits weren't known to kill themselves on purpose, that was true, but there were times when a Hobbit became so deeply depressed that they essentially wasted away. Merry had a cousin whose wife and daughter were drowned in a flood and the cousin had become so distraught, he himself was dead within the month. Died of a broken heart they said.  
  
Frodo was shaking his head in disbelief. What could possibly cause Sam to become so despondent that he would lose his will to live? It made no sense! "We need to have Gandalf take another look at him as soon as we can," he said finally. "We simply cannot allow Sam to go on the way he is. It will kill him!" And me, he thought to himself miserably.  
  
The coronation eve ball was an elegant, extravagant affair. All the important people of the kingdom were there, as well as the guests from Gondor's allies. The sumptuous gowns and elaborate decorations glittered in the light of a thousand candles. Frodo and his cousins were overwhelmed by it all. As the evening progressed, the crowd became more relaxed and soon everyone was enjoying themselves. The Lady Uzelle was an impeccable hostess. Still, Frodo felt bereft without Sam.  
  
"Frodo!" The Hobbit turned to see Lord Faramir approach. The Lady Eowyn beamed at his side. Another lady and her escort accompanied them. All of them resplendent in rich velvets and satins.  
  
"Hello, Captain Faramir," Frodo smiled and bowed to the ladies.  
  
"These fine people have asked me to introduce them to the Ringbearers," smiled Faramir fondly, "so here we are! This is the Lady Anelle and her husband, Lord Rodart. The Lady is the daughter of our hostess, Lady Uzelle."  
  
"I'm very glad to meet you, "replied Frodo formally. Merry and Pippin joined him a moment later and were also introduced.  
  
Faramir looked at the three Hobbits and then glanced about the room. "Where is our intrepid gardener, Master Gamgee?" he asked with a puzzled smile. "I did not believe he ever allowed you out of his sight, Frodo! I hope he is well."  
  
Frodo glanced at his cousins. "I'm afraid he wasn't feeling well this evening." He replied slowly. "So, he chose not to attend the ball." The company was surprised by a pronounced snort of disbelief. Everyone turned to Lady Anelle.  
  
"It matters not if your friend felt well or ill," she said bitterly, "Samwise Gamgee would not be here."  
  
"What do you mean?" asked Frodo in confusion, "Why would he not be here?"  
  
"Because," Anelle replied angrily, "My mother revealed to me that she sought out your friend last week and told him in no uncertain terms that he was not invited to the ball and that it would be best for all concerned if he did not try to attend. My mother has some notion that regardless of the fact Master Gamgee and yourself were instrumental in the salvation of Middle Earth, Master Gamgee is still nothing more than a servant and not fit company for the noble people attending this ball."  
  
The others gaped at her in utter astonishment. Never would have it occurred to anyone there that Sam would not be welcomed into all of the finest homes in Minas Tirith! After all, he was a hero! Frodo had stated time and time again that he would have completely failed if not for the unfailing loyalty and bravery of Samwise Gamgee.  
  
"I find that absolutely reprehensible," Faramir burst out, his eyes flashing in anger. He had developed the highest regard for the faithful gardener after their meeting in Ithilien. He simply could not understand that anyone would shun him because of his life's calling.  
  
"What do you find reprehensible?" A deep amused voice behind them caused the group to turn and face Gandalf and Aragorn casually strolling over to join them.  
  
"The lady who organized this ball apparently told Sam he was not welcome here this evening because according to her, he's nothing but a servant and not good enough to join us!" Frodo's face was white with fury. He had never been so angry in his entire life! He didn't care if anyone insulted him, but for someone to disparage his truest companion was more than he could bear!  
  
Aragorn frowned in confusion. "What do you mean, 'not welcome'? he asked. "He is one of the heroes of Middle Earth! Of course he is welcome to attend the ball! Who would say such a thing?"  
  
"My mother, for one," said Lady Anelle, turning to meet Aragorn's puzzled expression. "According to her and some of her friends, the "help' is not welcome to attend her ball, regardless of how famous they are. As far as she is concerned, Master Gamgee was merely carrying out his duties as a hired manservant by accompanying Frodo into Mordor. I think she honestly believes that Samwise did nothing more than made sure his master had clean clothes and warm meals on the journey!"  
  
This left Aragorn absolutely speechless. If Lady Uzelle had seen the condition of the two Hobbits when they were rescued from Mordor, she would certainly have seen that clean clothes and warm meals were most definitely not part of the itinerary. How she could think such a thing after all that had been said about Sam and Frodo was beyond his comprehension. Suddenly, white hot anger flared and he spun abruptly, gray eyes narrowed as he peered around the room in search of their hostess. He had a few things he wanted to say to her!  
  
Spying her across the room surrounded by admiring guests, he strode purposefully towards her, Faramir close on his heels. "I am sorry, Aragorn," muttered Faramir as they wove through the crowd, ignoring those that called out to them, "I had no idea that any of the nobility in Minas Tirith would ever consider Sam to be anything less than a hero and more deserving of honor than rest of us put together! I know this Lady Uzelle and she is an insufferable snob, but for her to have abused Sam in this manner is inconceivable!" Aragorn grunted, his lips pressed tight in a thin line, his jaw rigid. He was imagining how hurt Sam must have been by this insult and how like Sam it was not to have mentioned it to anyone. This revelation certainly explained a few things about Sam's recent behavior! More than once Aragorn had noticed the difference between the hard-working Sam and his more upper crust hobbit companions. Sam was a humble and retiring sort, never wanting to be a bother to anyone. He would simply nurse his hurts alone while the others went about their daily lives oblivious to his pain. Aragorn felt his anger rising even higher. Sam might not speak up for himself, but his friends most certainly would!  
  
The Lady Uzelle was glittering in a gown of spun gold and shimmering crimson. Rare jewels dripped from her neck and ears. Brilliant diamonds encircled her delicate wrists. She looked magnificent and she knew it. Her eyes lit up as she recognized the two most important men in Gondor approaching. She gave her companions a smug little smile, certain that the king and Lord Faramir had come to congratulate her on the outstanding success of her ball. She preened as she considered how she would use her success to further her standing in the highest echelons of the Gondorian nobility. This, she had no doubt, would be her finest hour! 


	7. Departure

Just a quick note! Thanks to everyone for continuing to read and review my story! You guys are the best! Hope you enjoy this next installment. It may be a few days before the next one! Thanks again for your support!  
  
Chapter 7 Departure  
  
Aragorn strode up to the Lady Uzelle, stopping abruptly just a few feet away. His eyes were blazing. Faramir stood beside him looking no less furious. Lady Uzelle had been glancing around at her gathered admirers to make sure they recognized her newest guests and it took a moment before she realized something was amiss. She turned to Elessar, prepared to greet him loudly, yet graciously but the words died on her lips and she paled at the look of fury on his face. Shifting her gaze to Lord Faramir she realized that she would find no support there. Her companions were slowly putting some distance between themselves and her as if to avoid being associated with whatever Lady Uzelle had done to incur such wrath. Lady Uzelle, however, was no coward and moistening her lips nervously, she fastened a smile upon her porcelain features and again turned to Elessar.  
  
With a low curtsey, she spoke. "My...my Lord," she began, a slight quaver in her voice, "I am honored by your presence at my insignificant little gathering. I hope I have done nothing to offend you or my lord Faramir." She looked coyly through lowered lashes, certain that whatever was irritating these two men could be solved with a little flirting. She excelled at such things.  
  
"My lady," growled Aragorn, his voice deadly cold. The spectators moved a bit farther away. "Am I to understand that you purposefully excluded the Ringbearer, Samwise Gamgee, from this ball!?"  
  
Lady Uzelle froze; her eyes flitted around as if looking for support from her previous companions. None would meet her eyes. "Well, I... uh," she licked her lips again, "You see, my lord," she tried again, a look of sincerity replacing her fear, "I only did it for his sake! I mean, he is but a simple gardener, unused to such heady company, and I saw how uncomfortable he seemed at his first ball. I was simply trying to protect him!" She was speaking quickly now, a sheen of perspiration beaded on her brow.  
  
"That is not what I understood," replied Aragorn his voice low and menacing. This unnerved Lady Uzelle far more than if he had ranted and raved at the top of his lungs. "I understand that you did not want him to attend because he was nothing but a mere servant, unworthy of your invitation. After all, what lord or lady would want to break bread with someone as insignificant as a gardener!" Aragorn stepped closer to Uzelle, his face only a foot away. "Well, I for one would be honored to break bread with any gardener, especially one as brave and as faithful as Samwise Gamgee! Do you have any idea, any at all, of what Sam and Frodo experienced on their quest to destroy the Ring of power and in turn, save all of us? Do you!?"  
  
Lady Uzelle stumbled back a step or two. This was not at all what she was expecting this evening! In fact, this man was humiliating her in front of all the most important people in Gondor! Her own ire began to rise. She was not used to anyone berating her in public and she was not going to sit still while this upstart king scolded her on proper etiquette! "My lord Elessar," she snapped, her own voice now as cold as his. "I realize you are unfamiliar with the protocols of Gondorian society, but I assure you, I was simply acting in accordance with our rules. Master Gamgee is Frodo Baggin's servant. He admitted it to me himself. Servants are not invited to state balls. It is not proper!" She stood rigid, eyes flashing with indignation.  
  
"Proper!? PROPER!?" roared Aragorn, all semblance of civility gone now, "I'll tell you what proper is! Proper is showing respect to the one person who saved your precious city and way of life! Proper is getting down on your knees and begging Samwise Gamgee's forgiveness for the appalling way you have treated him! Proper is having insufferable snobs like yourself thrown bodily from this city until you can learn what is truly important! "  
  
Suddenly, Frodo shouldered his way forward. He too, stood side by side with Aragorn and Faramir, his face livid. "You have no idea what Sam really did!" he spat angrily at the woman towering over him. "You would have nothing if not for Sam! Your parties, your balls, your fancy homes, everything would be gone! I could not have destroyed the Ring alone! Sam single handedly drove off the giant spider Shelob! He was prepared to take on the burden of the Ring and carry it to Mt. Doom alone when he thought I was dead! Yet he had the strength and purity of heart to return the Ring to me after he managed to make his way into the tower of Cirith Ungol, past dozens of orcs and rescue me! I doubt anyone here could have done that! He literally carried me upon his back all the way up the slopes of Mt. Doom after giving me all the food and water!" He stopped for a moment, breathing heavily. "You honor me as the Ringbearer and Hero of Middle Earth but there is only one true hero here, and that is Samwise Gamgee." He felt Merry and Pippin standing firm behind him, glowering at the odious woman before them.  
  
Lady Uzelle stood completely alone now. Her friends had all abandoned her in the face of this onslaught. She looked helplessly to Faramir, hoping that as a nobleman of Minas Tirith, he would at least understand her position, but his eyes were hard and unforgiving. Absently, her hands strayed to the jewels around her neck as she quickly considered her position. "Well," she said finally attempting to look contrite, "Perhaps I did make a small error in judgment. Yes, yes I do see your point and perhaps I was a tad hasty in my assessment of Master Gamgee. Well, no harm done! He is more than welcome to attend my ball!" she added magnanimously as if this would somehow atone for all pain she had caused.  
  
Aragorn shook his head in disgust. "You honestly do not understand what you have done, do you? You hurt Sam more than you can possibly imagine." Suddenly, slight smile touched his lips. "You, madam," he began in a commanding tone that would brook no argument, "are never to darken the doorway of this palace or attend any state functions again unless Samwise Gamgee gives you leave. You are hereby banned from court." There was a collective gasp of horror. Aragorn had touched on the one thing that would truly hurt the Lady Uzelle. Her life revolved around social events and intrigues. Without that, she had nothing. In just a few moments, she had gone from the matriarch of Gondorian society to social pariah.  
  
Her face white and set, Lady Uzelle stared at Aragorn in appalled disbelief. Then, after a moment of silence, muttered through clenched teeth, , "As you wish, my Lord." With a brief curtsey, she turned and stalked from the room. No one followed. This evening had turned into her worst nightmare.  
  
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Sam sat in the shadows of his room. Moonlight flowed through his open window, but he avoided its silvery glow. He wanted no part of light these days. He felt as if his life had gone completely dark and he could see no light at all. His head lay wearily on his knees. Frodo had left a short while ago. Frodo. His dear master. He had tried so hard to convince Sam to attend the ball with him, but Sam doubted the sincerity of the request. Nor did Sam have any desire to be publicly humiliated by that woman again. Everyone would undoubtedly laugh at him. Foolish Samwise Gamgee –who did he think he was? Him, a simple gardener, putting on airs and thinking himself good enough to attend Lady Uzelle's most exclusive ball! No, it was better if he stayed here, safe in dark's comforting embrace.  
  
He slowly lifted his head. It throbbed painfully and felt as if it weighed a hundred pounds. On second thought, maybe he didn't want to stay here. Frodo and the others might come back and Sam simply had no wish to talk to anyone. He could walk down to his secret garden. No one knew of it and he could sit there in peace as long as he wanted. It was dark and quiet there. Yes, that is what he would do. He awkwardly climbed to his feet but stumbled as he felt the world spin around him. He managed to grab onto the window sill and regain his balance. Panting, he closed his eyes and waited for things to settle down. His ribs throbbed. He felt so weak all of sudden, his body covered with a cold sweat. When had he eaten last he wondered distantly. Today? No, he didn't think so. Yesterday perhaps? Who knew? He certainly couldn't remember. Eating and sleeping seemed part of a distant past.  
  
When he felt steady enough, he opened his eyes again. Tentatively, he released the window ledge and took a few steps. Yes, he could manage now. He walked outside and slowly made his way down through the city. A great many festivities were going on this evening as people celebrated in anticipation of the next day's coronation. There would be much larger, more elaborate celebrations tomorrow. No one seemed to notice the small shadow that passed among them. Sam was wearing his beloved Lothlorien cloak and it shielded him from the eyes of those around him.  
  
As he reached the lowest level of the city, he made his way to his little garden. He wanted to see how his few flowers were doing. They always made him feel a little better. When he entered the garden, he knew immediately something was different. Several dark forms were lying in the grass near the gazebo. He approached cautiously but was relieved to see they were nothing but goats. He stood still as he realized what this meant. Someone had found the garden and was not using it to pasture their livestock. It was a secret no longer. Forlorn, Sam shuffled over to where he had so carefully nurtured his little plants. The buds had just started to open and he was eager to see them in full bloom, but It was not to be. The flowers were gone, victims of the goats' ravenous hunger. Shoulders slumped in defeat, Sam slowly left his garden for the very last time. He had lost even this small comfort.  
  
Reaching the main thoroughfare, Sam looked towards the wall surrounding Minas Tirith and he could see that the ruined gate of the city standing wide open. Sam wandered towards it and looked out across the plains of Pellenor. There were a number of glowing fires marking the campsites of the Riders of Rohan. Sam could hear singing and laughter but it sounded alien to him. He turned away and gazed up at the brilliant stars twinkling in the black velvet sky. He and Frodo had often used the stars to navigate their way on their journey. Slowly, he turned until he was facing northwest – the direction of the Shire. The direction of home. Gradually it occurred to Sam that the road leaving Minas Tirith headed in that very direction. If he followed it, it would take him back to the emerald green hills of his beloved Shire. He took a tentative step outside the city and onto the road. He stood very still for a moment. Then he slowly looked back towards the city behind him. Back towards Frodo and all the members of the Fellowship. Back towards pain and humiliation. Then he peered down the dark road, the road to Hobbiton, his family, his gardens. The road to Rosie Cotton. He took another step forward, then another and soon the dispirited Hobbit, with no thought of the future, was on his way home. 


	8. Friends' Fears

Hello all! Another one of those "bridging chapters" where not much happens but angst! LOL! Sorry for the delay in getting this one up. Life just keeps getting in the way! Hope you enjoy it.  
  
FrodoBaggins87: I'm afraid Sam will get farther than any suspected he could! He is a determined hobbit if nothing else!  
  
Laurajslr: Glad you're addicted! That's a good thing, I think! LOL! Guess I share the same addiction with your wonderful stories! This chapter is a bit shorter than the last couple, but I hope you still enjoy it.  
  
Merry lad: I think Sam could use all the hugs he could get about now! I hope you continue to enjoy the story. This one may very well turn out to be my longest yet.  
  
Gamgeefest: Yes, madam Ubersnob (love that term!) got the ultimate PUBLIC smackdown. Nothing else would have made much of an impression. Too bad there really are people around like her!  
  
Sam: Goats just seemed like the most logical livestock to be found in such a city. Not too big, and rather useful! I like the fact you've named your goats after the hobbits!  
  
Althea: Thanks for your review! I'm glad you're all upset about poor Sam – means my story is working! LOL! I'm not sure I could write a "Happy Sam" story!  
  
Bronwyn: I thought the loss of his few little flowers would be the straw that broke the camel's back. Not only does he lose his friend, but his flowers as well!  
  
Samwise the Strong: Poor Frodo must be getting weary of looking for Sam, the Incredible Disappearing Hobbit! LOL! But, Sam put up with all of Frodo's angst for three books, I think it's Frodo's turn!  
  
Rabidsamfan: I'm not sure how the palantirs would help in this situation. As I understand it, there have to be two of them, don't they? Sort of like a videophone? Unless Sam happened to bring one with him, I don't think they'll be much use!  
  
Frodo Freak2: Here...I think you need some Kleenex! Is that better?  
  
Arwen Baggins: I don't know whether or not Sam will ever run into Uzelle again (the story isn't finished), but all things are possible!  
  
Szhismine: Why is Sam leaving? Well, on top of Sam thinking everyone in Minas Tirith thinks he's nothing more than a lowly, insignificant servant, he believes Frodo wishes Sam had never returned from Mordor and that Sam had just been a royal pain in the butt the whole trip (Frodo was actually speaking of Gollum). So, Sam thinks he's lost his best and dearest friend.  
  
Saiyan: Yeah, losing his flowers was really the last straw. Sam just couldn't take it anymore and decided it was time to hit the road! I hope you enjoy the next chapter!  
  
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Chapter 8 Friends' Fears  
  
Interestingly enough, the party did not collapse after the dramatic departure of Lady Uzelle. For years, many had wished they could bring her down a peg or two, but none dared. The woman had an imperious, self- centered view of life that few could penetrate. Yet, Aragorn and Frodo had finally brought her down. The crowd dispersed throughout the ballroom, buzzing with excitement. Faramir smiled sardonically. "Seems as if your confrontation with Lady Uzelle will generate far more gossip and interest than even your coronation!" he said, shaking his head. "THAT feat of bravery is what people will remember no matter how long you reign!"  
  
Aragorn gave a small snort of disgust. "I cannot believe that anyone would treat Sam in such a shameful manner. I do not hold with pretentious snobs and that woman is by far the worst!" He ran his hand through his hair thoughtfully, then turned to Frodo who was still seething by his side. "At least this explains Sam's odd behavior."  
  
Frodo shook his head angrily. "If only I had known!" he cried in frustration, "I could have done something! I never would have allowed this to go on. These foolish people simply have no idea what Sam and I went through on our quest and how much they owe him in particular." He stared at the door through which Lady Uzelle had departed. "I must find Sam," he said finally. "I must let him know that no one else agrees with that woman. If anything happens to him because of the way she treated him, I'll..." he never finished that thought, for he turned abruptly and strode from the room, determined to find his friend.  
  
Merry and Pippin stood with the others and watched him go. Pippin started to follow, but Merry held him back. "Let him go, Pip," he said quietly. "Let him talk to Sam alone first." Pippin nodded and stepped back. Merry then turned to Gandalf who had now joined them. The hobbit looked grim. "Gandalf," he said, "I think there is more to this than that Lady Uzelle insulting him." The others looked at him in surprise. Merry continued. "You know Sam. Yes, he would be hurt, certainly, but do you honestly believe that that would be enough to separate him from Frodo or to cause him such deep pain? He's not eating; Frodo doesn't think he's sleeping. He looks terrible!" He hesitated for a moment then said, "I think he's wasting and if that's true, there's more here than a social snub by that odious woman."  
  
Gandalf leaned on his staff, frowning. There was truth in what Merry had said. Sam was uncommonly devoted to his master and it did seem unlikely that Lady Uzelle's actions would cause such a damaging response in Sam. He himself had felt concerned enough for Sam's well-being to have a guard secretly watching over the hobbit. But wasting? If that was true, than the root of Sam's pain went far deeper than anyone suspected. "I believe you are correct in this, Merry," Gandalf sighed. "But let us see what his response is after Frodo speaks with him. Perhaps knowing that we are all aware of Lady Uzelle's actions and have defended him, will bring him around. He is a sensible hobbit, after all." Merry nodded slowly, but doubt still tugged at his heart.  
  
Frodo hurried down the corridors to the rooms he shared with Sam. He worried that Sam would have already disappeared as he so often did at night. He never could learn where Sam went. As soon as he reached the door of his room, he flung it opened urgently, "Sam!" he cried searching about, "Sam! Where are you? I must speak with you!" He ran over to Sam's room and stopped, his heart beating desperately. The room was empty. "Oh, Sam!" he whispered, "Where are you? Please be all right!" Silence was his only response.  
  
Defeated, he made his way back to the ballroom. Merry and Pippin stood outside the doors waiting. "Frodo!" cried Pippin anxiously, "Have you spoken with Sam?"  
  
Frodo shook his head dismally. He looked at his cousins, tears in his eyes. "He wasn't there. I am so worried that he has done something serious this time. I should never have left him alone!" He sat down on a small bench, his weary head in his hands. If something had happened to Sam, he would never forgive himself.  
  
Merry slipped back into the ballroom, searching until he found Gandalf and Aragorn. They both had been keeping an eye out for any sign of Frodo's return. "Did Frodo find him?" Aragorn asked quietly as Merry approached.  
  
Merry shook his head. "No," he replied. "Frodo is really worried this time. He fears Sam has done something desperate." Merry stood silently for a moment. "I just know there is more to this than Lady Uzelle."  
  
Gandalf nodded thoughtfully then stepped outside for a few moments. When he returned, he looked more disturbed than before. "I have had a guard secretly watching Sam for several days now. He said that Sam often goes and stands on the cliff at the end of the causeway but has not seen him leave this evening. I suspect Master Gamgee has given him the slip."  
  
He turned to Aragorn. "I think we had better look for Sam. I have a bad feeling about this. But, I think it best if we keep the search party small. You, me, Gimli, Legolas, and of course the hobbits."  
  
"And me!"  
  
Gandalf turned to find Faramir standing beside him. "I wish to be part of the search," declared Faramir, "I have grown very fond of Master Gamgee and as I know this city better than any of you, I think I should be included!" Gandalf smiled and nodded. That would bring the party up to eight. The wizard felt it would be best to keep the search party small. He didn't want to upset Sam any more than he already was.  
  
All night they searched, to no avail. Frodo was beside himself with worry. No one could detect a single clue as to where Sam had gone. By morning, Aragorn had recruited some of the more trustworthy soldiers but eventually, the word got round that one of the hobbits was again missing. Riders searched the Pellenor fields and lands immediately around Minas Tirith. The residents of the city all kept their eyes open for a glimpse of the lost hobbit, but still there was no sign of Sam.  
  
Aragorn considered postponing the coronation until Sam could be found, but Gandalf convinced him that it would be a mistake to delay any longer. Gondor must be united under its new king and the sooner the better. The search for Sam would continue even during the ceremony. Yet, despite the best efforts of all concerned, no trace of Samwise Gamgee was found. It was if he had disappeared off the face of the earth.  
  
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Unaware of the uproar he had caused, Sam plodded on towards the Shire. He had no idea how far he had gone. A couple of times, he had heard the sound of hoof beats approaching from behind and he ducked into cover along the roadside. His presence remained undetected. Morning had come, then afternoon and finally, darkness descended on the land once more. Sam was exhausted and moving more by reflex than by any conscious thought. He hadn't eaten in at least two days and his throat was dry and parched. It was a familiar feeling, he thought dimly, recalling those last days in Mordor. At least here, the air was clear and fresh.  
  
Finally, Sam found a small spring hidden amidst a copse of willowy trees. Its cool, sweet water helped revive him. "What are you doing, Samwise Gamgee?" he suddenly moaned to himself as he knelt by the spring. "You've gone and run away! What will Mr. Frodo and the others think?" His mind was in such a muddle. What had possessed him to start walking all the way to the Shire and him without so much as a bite of bread or a bit of rope? Had he learned nothing from all his traveling in the wilds? He'd only been gone a day and already he could barely walk. His lack of food and sleep during the past week had weakened him considerably. He was certainly in no condition to go hiking clear across Middle Earth just to go home!  
  
He leaned back against one of the trees and considered his options. He could go back, of course. Perhaps they were even looking for him. Then he thought of Strider's coronation and decided that that would certainly take precedence over searching for one missing hobbit. But if he didn't go back to Minas Tirith, his only other option was to keep moving forward but without any food or supplies. He had no idea how far it would be to reach the Shire. They had come by such a circuitous route, that he had no concept of its distance. All he knew is that it was far. But what did it matter, he thought dismally. Any life he had was back in the Shire and somehow, he would make it there. Or die in the attempt. Either way, he would undoubtedly be happier. 


	9. Hertig

Well, I managed to get this chapter up a little quicker than the last one. Thanks again to all that have been reading and special thanks to all that review! It is so very much appreciated.  
  
Chapter 9 Hertig  
  
Day after day Sam walked. He was able to find some edible roots and plants as well as the occasional stream. Spring was on the land and new growth was visible everywhere. One day, he was even able to catch himself a small fish using his shirt as a makeshift net. He was far from well fed, but he managed to keep downright starvation at bay. He found the going difficult as his strength ebbed. He needed to rest often and for longer and longer periods of time. He was beginning to wonder if he was making any progress at all. Several times groups of riders heading north passed him. The last one was the largest of all. Sam had found refuge high in some rocks and was surprised to see Lord Eomer and his beautiful sister, Lady Eowyn riding past, along with all the Rohirrim returning to their homes in Rohan.  
  
He tried not to think of Frodo and the others back in the city. Sometimes he wondered if he had truly heard what he thought he had. Had Frodo really wished Sam gone? In his mind, Sam played the conversation over and over as if it had been permanently etched there. Each time, the pain was as sharp as ever. They were all probably relieved he was gone now, he thought morosely. At least now Frodo would no longer be reminded of the horrors that befell them in Mordor every time he looked at Sam. Sam held onto that belief to keep guilt at bay. He had nothing else.  
  
He had been on his journey for a fortnight when he came to edge of a dark forest. The road passed through it, so he continued to follow its path. He was just so exhausted now. His sleep was still disrupted by nightmares that left him cold and shaking every night. He tried to sleep as little as possible, but many times his exhaustion and lack of food allowed him no choice. One night, he awoke abruptly, a cry of terror on his lips, a cold sweat covering his shivering body. He sat up and hugged himself miserably. He was freezing cold. He stood up trying to warm himself, but the bouts of shivering continued unabated. He also noticed that his limbs felt leaden and his joints ached. He refused to consider the possibility that he might be falling ill. "All you need is a nice hot cup o' tea and some stew to take the chill off your bones, Samwise Gamgee," he mumbled to himself, "Not that you're likely to get it in this forsaken place!" It must be near dawn, he thought to himself, the blackness between the trees was easing into soft grays. "Might as well get going," he sighed, his teeth chattering. He simply couldn't get warm.  
  
He stumbled along the dark road, his mind replaying the nightmare again and again. Frodo was dead, Shelob and the Orcs stood around him laughing cruelly while Sam stood frozen, unable to move. Then, the monstrous, bloated spider turned her malevolent, glowing eyes towards Sam. Still, the Hobbit could not move, even as the menacing spider slowly approached him and its huge pincers purposefully closed around his head, the orcs' laughter still ringing in his ears. "No!" Sam cried, coming to himself for a moment, but the fever was upon him now, and with it, the dreams. He couldn't escape. He was trapped in the horrors of Mordor forever. It wasn't long before Sam's legs finally gave out, and he collapsed. "I'm sorry, Mr. Frodo," he moaned, tears coursing down his haggard face. "I failed you. Please forgive me." His last conscious thoughts were of Frodo smiling in his arms on the slopes of Mt. Doom. As the merciful blackness overtook him, Sam silently whispered good-bye to his master. The unconscious hobbit then slid gracelessly down the slope along the side of the road, disappearing into the tall grass below. No passing traveler would see him now.  
  
But someone passing did spy him. Hertig, a messenger from Minas Tirith, was cantering along in the early morning light making his way back to his home in Edoras. He had some messages from King Elessar to the new king of Rohan, King Eomer. He was eager to reach his home and reunite with his wife and children. It seemed a year since he had last seen them. He was thinking of this pleasant reunion when abruptly, his magnificent chestnut stallion, Manelys, halted in the road, refusing to move further. Frowning, Hertig dismounted and carefully inspected each of Manelys' hooves for imbedded stones. He seemed perfectly fine. Impatiently, the horse snorted, shaking his massive head. He then turned and looked over the side of the road.  
  
Puzzled at his horse's behavior, Hertig cautiously made his way down the slope toward the bottom. At first he saw nothing, but soon he made out an odd rasping noise. Pulling his sword from its scabbard, he silently crept towards the noise. It wasn't until he almost stepped on the small form before him, that he realized someone was there, concealed in the tall grass. "A child?" he whispered in confusion. Quickly, he knelt down and gently turned the body over. No, not a child! A halfling! He was well acquainted with the small men after spending time with Merry and seeing the other hobbits in Minas Tirith. He thought for just a moment before it dawned on him that this must be the missing hobbit, the one the entire city of Minas Tirith had turned out to search for. How and why had he come to be so far away?  
  
He looked at Sam with concern. It was apparent that the hobbit had not been eating; his skin felt papery and was pulled tight against the angular bones of his face. He was gaunt and wasted. Hertig laid his hand upon the Hobbit's brow and frowned at the heat there. The hobbit was obviously very ill. Hertig sat back on his heels for a moment as he considered his options. King Elessar and the Ringbearer, Frodo Baggins, had both been beside themselves with worry over their lost friend. He knew they would wish to know immediately that he had been found. Yet, the halfling was in no condition for a long ride back to Minas Tirith at present. No, the only choice was to take the hobbit with him to Edoras where he could be nursed back to health. Then, he could be returned safely to his companions.  
  
Nodding, Hertig removed his cloak and gently wrapped the ill hobbit within its warm folds. He gave Manelys a rueful smile as he approached the waiting horse. "I should have known to trust your instincts, my friend," he said, stroking the horse's soft nose. "You have just saved one of the Heroes of Middle Earth!" The massive horse snorted and tossed his head. Hertig laid Sam across Manelys' saddle before swinging up behind. Then, cradling Sam securely in his arms, Hertig urged Manelys on towards the city of Edoras.  
  
It took several more days before Hertig and his charge reached the city. King Eomer had returned just a week before and things were still being put to rights and the country was in mourning for the loss of their beloved king, Theoden. Hertig entered the city and followed a narrow road as it wound through the town before he finally reached a small thatched house. "Papa!" a small boy came hurtling through the door as Hertig carefully dismounted, Sam still firmly in his grasp. The hobbit had not improved at all during their journey and Hertig feared he would die before they reached the city. He had worked hard to get small portions of beef broth down Sam's throat to provide him with much needed nourishment and fluids. Still, the hobbit was caught in the throes of fever-fed nightmares and his small body was rapidly wasting away.  
  
The small boy was dancing around his father now, delighted to see him home at long last. A moment later, he was joined by a woman carrying a tiny girl in her arms. "Hertig!" she cried joyfully hurrying towards him, her face wreathed in smiles. She stopped with a frown when she spied the bundle in her husband's arms. "What is this?" she asked in surprise.  
  
"This is a halfling," he replied quietly gazing down at the haggard face just visible in the folds of the cloak. "He is very ill and needs immediate care." Hertig's wife, Helveg nodded and with a businesslike air, turned and led the way back into the cottage. Hertig gently placed Sam on the small bed in a back room and turned to Helveg. "Can you help him?"  
  
Helveg was a skilled healer and well known in Edoras for her abilities to aid the sick. She handed her daughter to Hertig, then approached the Hobbit, pulling the coverings from his face and body. He was burning with fever and obviously malnourished. There were no wounds that she could detect. Mentally, she began going through her stock of herbs and tinctures. She turned again to her husband. "I will do what I can for him, "she said simply and went to work.  
  
Hertig turned and left the room. His own elderly mother, Bertah, sat in a chair by the fire knitting. She looked at her tall son and smiled her warm, toothless grin. Hertig returned the smile, then handing the child to her, lifted his son into the air. "Have you been a good boy, Eldred?" he asked laughing.  
  
"Oh, yes, Papa!" replied the boy in delight, his bright blue eyes shining with joy. "I have helped mama and chased away the orcs and kept everyone safe!" Hertig laughed again and gently swung his son back to earth.  
  
Turning to his mother, Hertig said, "I must go to the King, I have messages from Minas Tirith that must be delivered. Tell Helveg I will return as soon as I am able." The old woman looked up from her granddaughter's silvery blonde head and nodded. A moment later, Hertig was gone.  
  
After taking care of Manelys and settling him into his stable, Hertig hurried up the hill to Meduseld, the Golden Hall of the kings of Rohan. He was quickly admitted when he displayed his messages bearing King Elessar's seal and was led before King Eomer. "Greetings, Hertig!" smiled the new king. Eomer and Hertig had ridden in many campaigns together and knew each other well.  
  
"Greetings, my lord," replied Hertig with a formal bow, but his eyes were smiling when he gazed upon his old friend. "I bring you messages from King Elessar." Hertig stepped forward and placed the pouch containing the scrolls into the king's hand.  
  
"Ah," smiled Eomer as he quickly skimmed over the first document, "It seems our new king will wed sooner than we had hoped!" He looked up at Hertig, but was surprised by the worried look on his face.  
  
"Is something amiss, Hertig?" Eomer asked frowning.  
  
"My lord," replied the Rider, "I have news both good and ill. On my journey here, I came upon the missing hobbit, Samwise Gamgee. He is alive but unwell."  
  
Eomer stared at him in confusion. "Samwise Gamgee?" he echoed. "Here?"  
  
"Yes, my lord," Hertig nodded. "Manelys must have detected his scent for he halted in the road and would not venture further until I had scoured the area. I found the Ringbearer unconscious, hidden in the tall grass. I believe he would now be dead if we had not found him when we did."  
  
"This is most strange," said Eomer slowly, fingering the parchment in his lap. For the life of him, he could not understand how the hobbit would come to be so far from Minas Tirith. "Has he spoken to you at all? Revealed anything of how he came to be here?"  
  
Hertig shook his head. "No, my lord. He has not wakened since I found him. I have left him in the care of my good wife, Helveg."  
  
Eomer nodded in approval. "That is good. If anyone can save Master Gamgee's life, it is your wife. I owe my own life to her able ministrations! I would send word to Minas Tirith that the missing halfling has been found, but I feel it would be best we wait til we know if he shall live or die."He was silent for a moment. "We owe our very existence to the efforts of that young halfling and his master," he said solemnly, "Keep me abreast of his progress. I would like to inform Elessar as soon as prudent of Master Gamgee's recovery."  
  
"Yes, my lord." Hertig bowed again and gracefully exited the throne room. He was anxious to return home and help see to the welfare of his small charge. 


	10. Lady Uzelle's Revenge

I won' be able to post again for several days, so thought I would just go ahead and put this one up as it is finished. Hope y'all enjoy!  
  
Dragonfly: Welcome! Thanks so much for taking a chance and reading my story. I understand about not necessarily being into one character. I am firmly a Sam fan myself!  
  
Bronwyn: I figured Sam needed some help and since he's on the road through Rohan, seemed like a Rider would be the most likely one to find him.  
  
FrodoBaggins86: Glad you like the names. I figured that since Tolkien had a Nordic theme in Rohan, I looked for Nordic words that seemed to fit the characters. I think they came out pretty well!  
  
Laurasjlr: OK, here we are back in Minas Tirith! Hope this doesn't disappoint!  
  
Szhismine: Thanks for being such a regular reviewer! As for Frodo and the others finding out Sam is safe.... Well, read this chapter!  
  
Althea: I am really pleased that you are enjoying the story! Sometimes I wonder if it's holding the reader's interest, then someone like you pops up with a such an encouraging review! I hope you continue to enjoy it!  
  
Merimas Gamgee: Oh my, this story has quite a long way to go (probably too long!). Rest assured, Sam will get farther than Edoras!  
  
Gamgeefest: Well, you know those horses in Rohan aren't your standard farm animal! They got brains AND beauty! And yes, hobbits can be very good at hiding themselves which is why Sam wasn't quickly found. He didn't want to be!  
  
Sam: His stop in Edoras is just a temporary one. Otherwise, I'd have to change my summary (although, it is taking longer for me to get him to the Shire then I had originally planned!)  
  
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Chapter 10 Lady Uzelle's Revenge  
  
It was the day after the ball and Lady Uzelle was seething with indignation and fury. Never in her entire life had she been treated so disrespectfully! Who did that Ranger think he was, reprimanding her like some naughty child? And that halfling! She didn't care if he was the Ring-bearer, he had no right to speak to her like that! And it was all because of that sniveling little gardener! He was a SERVANT for goodness sake! Someone paid to work serving others! So what if he had killed some big insect or gave Frodo a ride on his back? What of it? That certainly didn't entitle him to mar the perfection of her ball! She started pacing the room. Now, she'd heard he was missing. No one had seen him since last night. She began thinking hard. Somehow, she could use the worthless halfling's disappearance to her advantage, of this she was certain. Aragorn and those others who thought themselves so high and mighty, had caused her great pain. She stopped pacing as an idea began to form in her mind. Well, perhaps she could do the same to them, she thought, her cold heart beginning to beat faster with excitement. She slowly sat down and leaned against the silken cushions of her divan, a sly, triumphant smile tugged at her lips. A white, longhaired cat leapt into her lap meowing softly. Yes, she gloated, petting the animal, she would get her revenge.  
  
Frodo was frantic. By the next day, Sam had still not been found nor had he returned on his own. Despite the long search, no sign of Sam could be found. The coronation had gone on as planned, but Frodo's heart certainly was not in it. As he fulfilled his part of the ceremony, his thoughts were constantly on Sam. Where could he be? Was he hurt? What was troubling him so? It was all Frodo could do to keep from running away and joining the searchers. If only they would find him! Gandalf looked sympathetically at the forlorn looking hobbits. He knew at the first opportunity, all three of them rejoin the search. He himself feared that if they found Sam, the news would not be good.  
  
The next day came and went with still no sign of Sam. Gimli and Legolas volunteered to go search out towards Ithilien, thinking perhaps Sam had gone there. It had been the one bright spot in Sam and Frodo's journey and maybe Sam went there to ease his mysterious anguish. It was worth a try anyway. In the meantime, soldiers and citizens would continue to keep an eye out for the missing hobbit.  
  
When nightfall came for a second time, Frodo stumbled exhausted into his room. He had not slept since Sam's disappearance and he was reeling on his feet. Merry and Pippin had just retired to their own apartments. Gandalf and Aragorn had convinced the hobbits that they would be of no use to anyone in their current state. They needed some rest. Frodo collapsed into the chair by a small desk. Burying his weary head in his arms, he finally let his grief overwhelm him. Sobs wracked his thin body. He was lost without Sam. The horrors he and Sam had endured on their journey had forged a bond that went far deeper than even that of the most devoted of brothers. Now that he was gone, Frodo truly understood how much the quiet gardener meant to him. How could he possibly return to the Shire without him?  
  
He did not know how long he sat there sobbing in the dark, but he was brought back to his senses by a soft, but insistent knocking on his door. Wiping the tears from his face, Frodo stumbled to the door and pulled it open. A nervous looking boy stood anxiously in the doorway. "M...Master Baggins?" he asked, clutching a piece of parchment in his hands. Frodo nodded, still staring at the boy. "I have a message for you, sir," said the boy and thrust the parchment at the surprised hobbit. "I'm to wait for your response, sir."  
  
Frowning, Frodo turned, closing the door behind him. He lit the candle on the table and broke the seal on the note. Reading the message in the flickering candlelight, his frown grew darker. What on earth did this mean? He shoved the note into his pocket and hurried to the door. He would soon get to the bottom of this!  
  
He flung open the door to find the boy still waiting. "Do you know what this note contains?" Frodo demanded, grabbing the boy by the arm. "Do you know what it means?"  
  
"No...no, sir!" stuttered the boy in fear, "All I know is I was to deliver the message and take back any answer or to lead you to my lady if that is your wish! I don't know what the note says!"  
  
Frodo stared hard at the boy, then released him. "Take me to your mistress, then," he growled. "I prefer to speak to her in person!" The boy nodded and led Frodo through the dark streets of Minas Tirith.  
  
After much winding through labyrinthine passageways, they soon came to a small door cut into the wall of a massive stone wall. The boy knocked and spoke quietly to the guard that opened the door. Then, beckoning to Frodo led him into a stone courtyard brightly lit with torches. Looking around, Frodo gasped at the size and magnificence of the palatial home looming over them. He turned to the boy in awe, "She lives here!?" he whispered. The boy just nodded, then led the way across the courtyard. It seemed as if they walked forever before they came to another door, this one was found in the back of the house and led to the kitchens. A huge fireplace filled the room along with numerous worktables. Pots and pans hung down from the dark ceiling and even at this late hour, servants were at work cleaning and preparing food the next day's meals. Wouldn't Pippin adore this place, thought Frodo absently. Surely there was more food here than even his young cousin could consume!  
  
The boy pulled at Frodo's sleeve and led him down one dark corridor after another, through doors, up stairs and on and on. Frodo was completely lost and didn't think he could possibly find his way back alone. Finally, they came to a dark blue door decorated with gold. The boy stopped and firmly knocked. A soft voice bade them enter.  
  
The room was as luxurious as a sultan's palace. Rich tapestries hung from the walls, thick burgundy rugs carpeted the marble floors, while a beautifully carved marble fireplace warmed the room with its brightly burning fire. Frodo looked around and stopped as he spied the woman seated on an ornate chaise lounge covered with costly red and gold satin, her red velvet dressing gown glowing in the warm light. Slowly, the woman turned and stood, gliding gracefully towards Frodo and the boy. She looked at the boy and simply nodded. The boy turned and left, closing the door silently behind him. Frodo was now alone with Lady Uzelle.  
  
Frodo watched the boy go, then turned to the woman. "What is the meaning of this?" he demanded abruptly holding out the letter. "What do you know about Sam's disappearance?"  
  
Lady Uzelle sighed sadly. "First of all, Master Baggins," she began in her soft, sultry voice, "Please let me apologize again for the abominable way I have treated your friend. Yes, I was following our Gondorian codes of conduct, but that is no excuse!" She paused a moment, looking down at her clenched hands. "I felt responsible for your friend's disappearance, so I believed it was my duty to aid in the search for him. I have many contacts in this city and finally, this afternoon, I had some news." Frodo's face lit up. Lady Uzelle looked at him, then paused again, this time there were tears glistening in her pale blue eyes. "I am very sorry, Master Baggins," she whispered laying a gentle hand on his arm, "But the news is not good." Frodo stiffened beneath her touch. She turned and walked to a small chest. Opening it, she pulled out a gray bundle. As she turned back towards Frodo, he saw that it was a Lothlorien cloak. He frowned in confusion.  
  
"One of my contacts located a man who knew your friend," began Uzelle gently caressing the soft fabric. "He is a gardener himself and I think that is what drew Samwise to him. He lives in the lowest part of the city, near the gates. He said that Samwise came to him the night of the ball in much distress. Martin, that is the man's name, said he managed to convince Samwise to come in and tried to get him to say what was wrong. At first Samwise would say nothing, but after much persuasion and as I understand it, some, uh, alcoholic encouragement, Samwise began to talk."  
  
"What did he say?" whispered Frodo, afraid of what he might hear.  
  
Lady Uzelle bit her lip and wiped away a small tear. It seemed to take her moment to gather her thoughts. "He told Martin that he saw no point in living any longer. His master had no further use for him and if that was the case, what use did he have for life? He felt no one wanted him around," she paused here, her eyes closed as if in pain. "I know that was my fault," she said, a small sob in her voice. "Martin said he had never seen anyone as low as Samwise was that night. The next morning, when he went to check on your friend, he was gone. It was very early and the dew was heavy, so Martin was able to follow his tracks out through the city gate and across the Pellenor Fields. They...they led to the river. He found this caught on a branch in the water." Frodo continued to stare at her, his face ghostly white.  
  
Uzelle met his gaze, tears freely flowing now. "The tracks only went one way, Master Baggins. They did not return." The world began to spin around Frodo. No! This couldn't be happening! Why should he believe this horrid woman? She didn't even like Sam! He felt her gentle touch as she guided him to the chaise lounge and helped him sit down.  
  
"I am so sorry, Master Baggins," she wept, "I had no idea this would happen! I am a selfish, foolish woman and Samwise Gamgee deserved so much better!" Frodo turned his stricken face to stare at Lady Uzelle. Her face was buried in her hands as she wept. He blinked trying to make sense of all this. She seemed genuinely upset. Could she be telling the truth?  
  
"I..." the words choked him, "I... would like to talk to this Martin," he finally managed. "I want to hear his story from his own lips."  
  
Uzelle lifted her tear-stained face and nodded. "I expected as much," she said wearily, "I asked him to remain here until you could come. I will send for him immediately." She stood and slowly made her way out of the room, wiping the tears from her face. She looked back at Frodo for a moment and said quietly, "I truly am sorry, Frodo." Then, she was gone.  
  
Frodo stared at the cloak he now held in his hands. It smelled of river water and was still damp. He studied it closely as well as the delicate brooch still clinging to it. He saw a deep scratch across the leaf. Yes, this was Sam's. He remembered that scratch. Sam said it happened during the fight with Shelob. Burying his head in the folds of the cloak, Frodo wept.  
  
Uzelle stood outside the door listening carefully. Yes, she could hear the halfling sobbing now. She smiled coldly. She had no idea where Samwise Gamgee was, nor did she care. The entire story had been fabricated, although it hit closer to the truth than she could have possibly imagined. She had paid a boy to steal Sam's cloak from his chamber. The others had not noticed it. This "Martin" was indeed a gardener and had once spoken to Sam about flowers, but the rest of the story was the result of a well- filled purse. He would say anything she told him to. She smiled more broadly as the sobs increased in intensity. Frodo was heartbroken. His friends would be likewise once they learned of poor Samwise's "death". Her only fear was that stupid hobbit would turn up alive and well, but since she had not offered any definitive proof, she could always feign surprise and relief at his return. She was, after all, a superb actress. In the meantime, she would relish the pain she had caused. No one humiliates Lady Uzelle and escapes unscathed! 


	11. Edoras

Here is the next chapter of life with Sam. Thanks again for reading and reviewing!  
  
FrodoBaggins87: I'm so glad you're enjoying this one! Periodically, we'll be checking back on Minas Tirith. Angst galore there!  
  
Dragonfly32: I think if Aragorn had any sense, he'd feed her to the orcs! As for returning to Gondor, well.... That's not likely to happen anytime soon!  
  
Bronwyn: In my original version of this story, Uzelle never reappeared after the scene in her coach. As I've revised this story, her part has expanded – it's always nice to have someone to despise!  
  
Laurajslr: Again, thanks so much for your great reviews – they really mean a lot to me! I'm still really enjoying your current story! As for the ending of this story, well, it's not written yet! Who knows how this will turn out!  
  
FrodoFreak2: Hmmm. Exactly what kind of cookies are we talking about here?  
  
Samwise the Strong: Yeah, I think she should die as well, but then what would I do for a bad guy!? LOL!  
  
Szhismine: Take a deeeeeep breath! That's right! Calm down! There! That's better! We're back to Sam this chapter, so you can rest easy now (sort of)!  
  
Gamgeefest: Yeah, I hate vindictive people, too and you're right. There are far too many of them in real life! Petty people who have to get their revenge even when THEY'RE in the wrong! Argh! Frankly, I think her servants would line up to be first to throw her into Mt. Doom!  
  
Sam: You make me laugh! No, you certainly didn't seem mean or anything when you were confused! Just meant that maybe I wasn't as clear as I'd hoped! I'm just glad you're still reading! I'm sure several people would like to see more than her butt kicked!  
  
Nymredil72: Thank you so much for reviewing and the kind comments about my other stories! A lot of this story has been written, but since it was written some time ago, I'm doing a lot of rewriting and revising as I go along (which means I'm not getting the end done!). So, I really don't know how long this well end up being.  
  
Althea: I hope I didn't kill you off! That would be one less reader! LOL!  
  
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Chapter 11 Edoras  
  
Helveg sat by the side of the unmoving hobbit, gently bathing his face with cool, scented water. She had already administered a potion of several herbs hoping to lower the hobbit's raging fever. She was very worried about him. He was so thin and weak. He was usually very still, but then the delirium would come upon him and he would use what little strength he still possessed to fight unseen enemies and horrifying monsters. Over and over he cried out the name of "Frodo". Although she well remembered the two halflings, Merry and Pippin, Helveg knew nothing of Sam and Frodo, but it was apparent even to her, the depth of affection the ailing hobbit felt for this Frodo for whom he so often called. Perhaps her husband knew more of this person.  
  
She looked up as the door silently swung open and Hertig ventured in, his eyes straying to the hobbit's haggard face. "How does he fare?" he asked quietly.  
  
Helveg sighed wearily. "There has been no change," she replied continuing to bathe Sam's burning brow. "If only we could break the fever. He uses what energy he has in bouts of delirium. You say he has been this way for three days?"  
  
Hertig nodded. "At least that," he replied. "I do not know how long he was lying by the side of the Road. However, I believe his fever has grown worse since I found him."  
  
"It is a wonder then that he still lives." Helveg looked sadly down at Sam. "Even if the fever does not kill him, I fear he may not recover from its ill effects. Such fevers may damage a man's senses or his mind."  
  
Hertig gently laid his hand on his wife's slumped shoulders. "We must do what we can for him," he said, "He is one of the two Ringbearers that carried the Ring of Power into the very heart of Mordor and destroyed it forever in the fires of Mt. Doom. "  
  
"A Ringbearer!" she gasped in surprise, glancing up at her husband. She had heard the tale of two halflings destroying the One Ring, but it never occurred to her that this poor fellow might be one of them! She looked down at Sam in frank admiration. "Are the stories true, then?"  
  
Hertig nodded. "I was there when Gandalf and the great Eagles brought Frodo Baggins and Samwise Gamgee out of Mordor. We could scarce believe they still lived. Although, I believe it was only by the grace of King Elessar's powers to heal that they survived after their rescue. They were greatly honored when they woke from their healing sleep."  
  
"Frodo Baggins," whispered Helveg as she gently bathed Sam's brow again. "So that is who he calls for. Over and over he calls that name."  
  
"Frodo is his master," replied Hertig, "Although I believe they are closer than brothers after their ordeal." He paused for a moment as he studied Sam's pale face. "Sam mysteriously disappeared from Minas Tirith a few weeks back. A great search was mounted, but no trace of him was ever found. Frodo was greatly distraught as were the other members of the Fellowship. I do not understand how Samwise managed to travel so far from the city. Or why."  
  
Helveg sat back and stretched. Her muscles felt cramped from sitting still for so long. "Well, I will do all within my power to help him." Hertig had no doubt she would succeed.  
  
For several days, Sam hovered between life and death, with Helveg rarely leaving his side. She frequently dosed him with various potions, trying first one thing, than another hoping to break the devastating fever. On the fourth night, after she had wrestled him back down onto the bed after another frenzied bout of delirium, Helveg broke down with exhaustion. Tears ran down her face as she was overwhelmed by grief and frustration. She laid her head on the edge of the bed and wept. She must have dozed off because she woke with a start as she became aware of a small, quiet voice singing. Slowly, she lifted her head and blinked surprise. Little Olwyn, only three years old, was sitting on the bed, holding Sam's hand and singing to him as the gray light of dawn began illuminating the room. Helveg turned her head and with a small cry stood over Sam. He was drenched in sweat and for the first time, seemed to be breathing a little easier. "Thank, Elbereth!" she whispered, "The fever has broken!"  
  
"Hello, Mama!" beamed the small girl, "I am singing to the little man! Will he wake up now?"  
  
Laughing, Helveg reached over and hugged her daughter, "Yes, my darling, I think he will now!"  
  
It was two more days before Sam finally regained consciousness. He lay there quietly for some time, his eyes closed, trying to figure out where he was. He was almost afraid to look. Suddenly, something landed on his bed. Opening his eyes, he was startled to find himself peering into the bright blue eyes of a small child. "You waked up!" she crowed in delight jumping up and down. "Finally!"  
  
"Olwyn!" cried her mother hurrying in and scooping the girl up off the bed, "Gently!" It was then Helveg noticed Sam blinking at her in confusion. "Master Gamgee!" she smiled in relief, "At last!" She quickly set the girl down and reached for a cup of water. Carefully lifting Sam's head, she assisted him in getting some water down his parched throat.  
  
"Thank you," he croaked weakly. He closed his eyes again, but for just a moment as Olwyn, began pulling firmly on his bed clothes.  
  
"No more sleep!" she ordered frowning at Sam, "Time to wake up!" Sam turned his head and smiled faintly at the determined child.  
  
"Alright," he said with a small laugh. The little girl smiled widely in return. She had been waiting days and days for this odd little man to wake up. Olwyn was a curious child and rarely shy around strangers. A man barely larger than her 6 yr old brother was fascinating to her and she wanted him to wake up and play with her. Her mother tried to warn her that Master Gamgee might not like playing with children, but Olwyn held firm in her childish belief that he would want to play with her! Now that he was awake, she was determined to make him her special charge.  
  
"My name is Olwyn," she said solemnly looking over the edge of the bed at Sam. "What your name?"  
  
Sam smiled again. He was actually very fond of children and he was already smitten by this bright eyed sprite. "Sam," he rasped. Helveg gave him some more water.  
  
"Now Olwyn," Helveg said sternly as she gently settled Sam's head back on the pillow, "We must let Master Gamgee rest now. He has been very ill. Come help me get him some broth. He needs to eat to get strong again." The woman smiled down at Sam and led the child skipping from the room.  
  
Sam relaxed and stared up at the ceiling. He felt very groggy and wondered how long he had been here. He suspected, thinking of the blonde hair and clothing of the woman and her daughter, he must be in Rohan. He had seen a number of the Riders as well as Eomer and Eowyn in Minas Tirith and these people reminded him of them. Well, he thought optimistically, at least that put him closer to the Shire! He turned his head as he heard the woman and child approach. This didn't seem to be a bad place at all.  
  
Once he had awakened and began to take in nourishment, Sam's recovery moved ahead quickly. Hobbits possess remarkable recuperative powers and with good care, Sam was demonstrating this trait admirably. Olwyn and soon her brother, Eldred, became his constant companions. As he grew stronger, he began to tell them stories of his home in the Shire soon followed by stories he remembered about elves as well as Mr. Bilbo's adventures with the dwarves and Smaug the dragon. The children were entranced and Sam was distracted from his own worries.  
  
However, as he lay alone in his bed during the dark nights, he thought a lot about what had happened in Minas Tirith. He loved Frodo with all his heart, but those words still formed a barrier between himself and his master. The more he thought on it, the more despondent he became. Helveg noticed this gradual change in Sam's demeanor and it worried her. His health was very precarious at the moment and she was well aware of the connection between mind and body. If Sam became too depressed, he could easily relapse. This must be avoided at all costs. When she noticed his appetite falling off, she knew she must do something.  
  
"Sam," she said one evening after settling the children in their beds. Hertig had gone out on patrol for a couple of days and she wanted to use this time to her advantage. Sam looked up at her from his pillows and smiled faintly. Helveg frowned at the dark shadows under his eyes. They had been fading as he grew stronger, but their return told her he was not sleeping well. She sat down beside him and took his hand.  
  
"Sam," she repeated softly, "I know we have not known each other long, but in this short time, you have become very important to us. The children adore you, as you well know. I have done my best to restore you to health, but I am beginning to worry about you again." Sam looked away. Helveg shook her head in dismay, "Sam, I know something is hurting you. Something very deep. The others wonder why you have run away from Minas Tirith. But, I think I know," she paused as she studied him. "It is because of your master, isn't it?" Sam stared at her now, his mouth opened in surprise. Then, flushing, he looked away.  
  
Helveg pressed her lips together. She knew if she could not remove the poison that was eating away at Sam's heart, he would die, no matter how many potions she tried or songs little Olwyn sang. Helveg had heard many things during Sam's bouts of delirium and she felt now was the time to confront some of them. "I know what Frodo said to you," she continued tensely. "I know he said he wished you had never come back from Mordor or at least I know that is what you believe he said."  
  
Sam turned on her now, such tortured anguish in his eyes, Helveg felt her own heart grow cold. "I don't "believe" I heard it," he hissed, "I KNOW I heard it! I love Mister Frodo more than anyone else in the world! I would lay down my life for him in an instant and did everything I knew how to bring him safely through Mordor. But I failed. I let the orcs take him, then later the Ring took him. If Gollum hadn't stepped in, I would have lost Mr. Frodo. I didn't deserve to come back. He was right about that." He stopped for a moment, gathering his strength, his eyes closed, although hot tears seeped from beneath them. "I never thought I'd cause him pain," he rasped, his voice thick with grief. "The thought of him hating me, is just too much. I...I can't go on knowing what he truly thinks of me. There's no point to it."  
  
Helveg shivered. This was worse than she had thought. Her limited experience with hobbits had taught her they were highly emotional creatures, but she hadn't realized what the consequences of such a fierce devotion could be. Somehow, they had to convince Samwise that with or without Frodo, life was still worth living.  
  
Late that night, as Sam lay alone and lost in his bed, a small figured padded down the hallway through the dark. Sam turned his head as he heard his door opened and was surprised to see Olwyn standing before him. "Sam?" her quavery voice was a soft as a dove's coo. "I had a bad dream. Can I sleep with you?"  
  
Sam blinked in surprise, then slid over to make room for the little girl. She nimbly climbed in and cuddled alongside the bemused hobbit. She gazed up at him adoringly with sleepy blue eyes whispering, "I love you, Sam." Then, with her tiny thumb in her mouth, she closed her eyes and was soon fast asleep; her mouth curved into a contented smile. Tears sprang to Sam's eyes as for the first time in many weeks, he felt the warmth of being needed. For just a moment, he was able to forget his pain and slid into a peaceful, dreamless sleep. 


	12. Difficult Choices

Wasn't sure if I would get this one today or not! But anyway, here it is...  
  
As always, thanks so much to all of you who take the time to read my story and of course, special thanks to those who have taken the time to review. I truly appreciate your comments!  
  
Dragonfly: Hope this explains why Sam has no immediate plans to return to Gondor!  
  
Nymredil72: I don't think this one will leave you scared to death either! LOL! Glad you liked the last chapter!  
  
Arwen Baggins: Yeah Uzelle, deserves everything she gets! I don't think she'll get away with this either!  
  
FrodoBaggins87: Well, this chapter should tell you a little about what Frodo is up to as well as Sam! Two for one!  
  
Szhismine: I doubt Aragorn will ever kill Uzelle, but I do believe he could make her life even more upleasant than he already has!  
  
Lauralsjr: I'm not sure where the name "Olwyn" came from. I think I must have seen it somewhere. It seemed very fitting. Eldred just came to me. I was trying to think of names that had the same kind of sound of the Rohan names we did know.  
  
Girlieblue: Thank you so much! I am always excited when I see someone new! I hope you continue to enjoy the story (for however long it runs). Thanks again!  
  
Brownwyn: I always thought Sam seemed like the type that would like kids and sometimes it's easier to bond with them than adults!  
  
Merry lad: Thanks! I am really glad you liked the chapter (and the story as a whole). I appreciate your wonderfully supportive comments!  
  
Saiyan: Aren't kids great (well... most of the time)? I really thought Olwyn could help Sam move on.  
  
Sam: You know, I added that last paragraph at the last minute. It really hadn't entered into my mind to use Olwyn to help Sam at first. I'm glad I decided to go with it!  
  
Merimas Gamgee: Yes, I think it's time Sam got a grip on himself! He needs to learn he is his own person and this chapter is a start!  
  
Althea: Thank you for all your wonderful reviews and comments! They are always so encouraging! I think Sam is going to see the world a bit better now. I hope you continue to enjoy the story!  
  
Arwengreenleaf: Wow! I am so honored that you chose my story to be the first you ever reviewed! That is so cool! I really appreciate you taking the time and thanks so much for the kind remarks. The story has a ways to go yet, and I hope you'll stick with it! Thanks again!  
  
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Chapter 12 Difficult Choices  
  
Frodo sat hunched over on the divan in Lady Uzelle's chamber; Sam's cloak clutched tightly in his shaking hands. He was waiting with dread for the arrival of the Lady and her gardener informant, Martin. "He can't be dead," moaned Frodo to himself blinking away the tears. "Not by water! He hates water!"  
  
He looked up as the door to the chamber opened and Lady Uzelle entered, a short, elderly man following hesitantly behind. Frodo stood, the cloak still clenched in his hands. The man's eyes fell on the cloak and he seemed to pale, then looked up into Frodo's red-rimmed eyes. Martin remained silent.  
  
"Frodo," began Lady Uzelle quietly, "This is Martin. He has promised to tell you what he knows." She stepped aside and gently pushed the reluctant gardener forward.  
  
"You, you knew Sam?" rasped Frodo, in a voice so unlike his own. He could barely get the words past the lump in his throat.  
  
"Aye," replied Martin gruffly, "I knew 'im. He were a fine feller, for a halfling. Knew 'is flowers 'ee did. Him and me talked about gardens a time or two."  
  
Frodo nodded, closing his eyes for a moment, gathering strength for the questions he must ask. "He came to your house?" asked Frodo, peering closely at the man, "The night of the ball?"  
  
"Aye."  
  
"What was he like?" whispered Frodo, clutching the cloak like a life line.  
  
Martin glanced at Lady Uzelle standing behind Frodo. Her eyes narrowed warningly. He swallowed, then put his hand in his pocket as if to make sure his bag of gold was still there. Turning back to Frodo, he said, "Aye, he came to my 'ouse. In a right bad state he were. Cryin' an' all. But, he wouldn't tell me what was troublin' 'im. Not til I give 'im some o' my finest ale. He drank it down like he ain't had a drink in years! Drank two or three tankards, he did! Never seen the like. Then he opened up some." Martin paused here, looking apprehensively at Frodo who was staring so intently at the old gardener, Martin thought the hobbit must be able to see right through him. He licked his lips and continued. "All that ale loosened his tongue, if ye get my meanin'. Sam said ye didn't want 'im round no more. No one did. No one in the whole wide city, he said! Claimed that if his Mr. Frodo didn't want 'im, then there was no use in livin'." He had to stop; the devastated look in Frodo's eyes froze the false gardener's lying tongue. He wasn't a bad man, just greedy, and the grief his story was causing was not what he was expecting. Martin glanced again at Lady Uzelle, but the hard look in her eyes warned him not to deviate from the agreed story. He began to seriously doubt the wisdom of his actions.  
  
"What happened next?" said Frodo, his eyes closed again as if he knew what was coming.  
  
"Well," mumbled Martin uncomfortably, "After another mug or two o' ale, he passed out. I put 'im to bed in a corner. Next mornin' he was gone. I looked all round fer 'im til I saw his footprints. Nothin' easier to follow then halfling tracks, beggin' yer pardon, sir! Anyway, the dew was heavy that mornin' and I was able to follow the tracks all th' way to th' river. They, uh, I'm sorry sir, but the tracks led right into the river itself! The bank were mighty slippery and steep. No tracks came out. I walked a bit downriver, hopin' I'd see 'im, but all I found was that cloak." He nodded at the wad of fabric in Frodo's hands. Martin paused again, then said very quickly, " found it just past the rapids snagged on a tree. There was nothin' else. He was gone, sir."  
  
Frodo said nothing. He now was staring at the cloak again as if it might somehow tell him what happened to Sam. Finally, he raised his head. "Thank, you Martin," he whispered. He slowly stood up, grabbing onto the sidetable for support. "I must go now and tell the others." Turning, his shoulders slumped with grief, the exhausted hobbit shuffled from the room. The boy waited outside and silently led Frodo away.  
  
Martin stared after the hobbit, tears forming in his own eyes. He turned suddenly as he felt a fierce grip on his arm. Lady Uzelle was glaring threateningly at him. "Don't you dare change your story," she hissed quickly assessing the situation. "For all you know, Sam did jump into the river. No one has seen him in days. This will give Master Baggins and his friends some closure." She stopped a moment, then smiled cruelly, "Besides, if you go back on our bargain, I will destroy you. You wouldn't want your family out on the streets would you?"  
  
Martin swallowed nervously and mutely shook his head. He must have been drunk to agree to help this woman, he thought ruefully. For all practical purposed, he had made a pact with the devil.  
  
Frodo slowly opened the door to his chamber. He couldn't even remember the journey back from Lady Uzelle's house. It seemed as if his door just magically appeared before him. He pushed it open and stepped in, then stopped in surprise at the figure sitting before the fireplace. It was Gandalf.  
  
The wizard stood up as the door opened and studied Frodo with concern. "Frodo?" he asked setting his pipe down. "Are you alright?" Frodo said nothing, just stared at the cloak in his hands, tears still glistening on his pale cheeks. He swayed and would have fallen had not Gandalf hurried over and steadied him. "Come, sit down." Gandalf commanded and settled Frodo onto a chair before the fire. "Tell me. What has happened!?"  
  
It took Frodo a few moments to gather his thoughts. He felt so numb! Finally, he managed to get the entire tale out before breaking down again. Gandalf stood frozen, staring at the grieving hobbit. He frowned. Something just did not seem right about this entire story. Yes, given the length of time Sam had been missing, he did fear for the hobbit's life, but for Sam to have thrown himself in the river? That just didn't seem likely. It just went against everything he knew about hobbits. They simply didn't kill themselves like that! He turned again to Frodo. The poor hobbit had almost completely collapsed. He still hadn't completely recovered from his ordeal in Mordor and now for this to happen! The wizard sighed wearily, then gently laying his hand on Frodo's head, Gandalf quietly spoke a few words sending Frodo into a deep sleep. Gandalf carefully tucked Frodo into his bed, then without another word, swept from the room. He felt a burning need to speak with a certain lady and get to the bottom of this.  
  
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It was a sunny morning and Sam sat outside near the back of Hertig's house. There were few trees in this broad grassy land, but Sam enjoyed the warmth of the sun on his face and the sweet smell of the open plains. Olwyn sat at his feet, playing with a small dog Sam had carved for her. She rarely left Sam's side as if she realized how beneficial her presence was to him. It was hard for him to feel sad with her sunny disposition around! Plus, he had much to think on.  
  
He was feeling much stronger these days. It was almost two weeks since he had found himself face to face with Olwyn and as much as he enjoyed it here, he was beginning to feel an urgent need to continue on to the Shire. He was still having bad dreams, but they had changed. Although his nightmares about Mordor continued to plague him, interspersed with these were dreams about the Shire. He kept thinking of the fearsome images he had seen in Lady Galadriel's mirror and his concerns for his Gaffer were growing.  
  
It was old Bertah who had finally broken through Sam's wall of depression. "Master Hobbit," the old woman said one day, settling herself beside Sam's bed. "We must talk." Sam stared at her in surprise. He had never spoken more than a few words to the elderly woman. She tended to keep to herself. Now, she was sitting beside him with a look of exasperation. The woman continued, her voice strong and no-nonsense, "I have spoken with Helveg about your problem with your master and I think it is time for you to move on."  
  
Sam blinked. "I...I don't understand, Mistress Bertah," he stammered, trying to figure out what was going on here.  
  
The woman sighed irritably and shook her head. "You say your master no longer wants you and has no use for you. Helveg says you overheard him say he wished you had not returned from the Dark Land. Now, you have run away instead of facing him and as a result have almost killed yourself! Might still do so if Helveg is right about you." Bertah stopped for a moment and studied the flustered hobbit. "Is that what you want, Master Gamgee? Is your life so worthless without your master that you should throw it away? I have heard the stories you tell the children about your home and your family and a certain lass by the name of Rosie. Do they also have no use for you? Would they rejoice in your death?"  
  
Sam flushed and ducked his head. She was right, he knew. He was worried about his family and Rosie and his dreams seemed to be pushing his concerns about Frodo into the background. He kept seeing the images of falling trees, and his old gaffer slowly stumbling down the road with all his possessions heaped in a barrow, Bagshot row nothing but a pile of rubble. Frodo was safe in Minas Tirith, but his gaffer needed him now. Bertah nodded as she watched Sam's face. He would always mourn for his beloved master, but he was realizing that right now, there were others whose needs were greater than his own. He must go home and the sooner the better.  
  
Sam's reverie was broken by the sound of boots. Turning quickly, Sam was surprised to see King Eomer turning the corner of the house, followed by Hertig. Sam started to struggle to his feet when Eomer put out a hand to stop him. "No, no, Master Gamgee!" he said hastily, "You need not stand for me! Please, keep your seat and I will join you." Hertig placed another bench near Sam's and Eomer sat across from the embarrassed hobbit.  
  
Eomer smiled as his eyes looked over the thin hobbit before him. Sam was doing much better, but the signs of his recent illness were still quite apparent. "How do you feel, Samwise?" the king asked kindly.  
  
"Oh, much better, my lord!" Sam quickly replied. "Mistress Helveg has taken splendid care of me and that's a fact!"  
  
Eomer nodded glancing at Hertig. "Yes, she is a fine healer and I can see she has done well by you." He smiled again then grew serious. "Master Samwise," he began leaning forward, "I do not know how you came to be so far from Minas Tirith but I do know your friends there are most concerned for your welfare. I have delayed sending word to them until I was sure you would recover. Even when I knew you were out of danger, still I waited." He paused here and looked Sam squarely in the eye. "Sam, your friends were very upset when you disappeared. You cannot imagine Frodo's grief when no trace of you could be found." Sam looked down, flushing a deep red. He hadn't wanted to think about that. Eomer placed his hand on Sam's arm causing Sam to look up at him. "I delayed," continued the king, "For I hoped that instead of a message, I could send you, safe and sound."  
  
Sam looked away again, tears burning his eyes. He felt great guilt now at leaving his friends, but he couldn't go back. He looked up at Eomer. "My lord," he said in a low voice, "I left the city on my own. I was foolish, I know. I'm not always thinking straight about things and something hurt me there in Minas Tirith and I left. Thinking about it now, it shouldn't have driven me away from my master, but it did. I've thought about it a lot and if that were the only thing, I would willingly go back in the blink of an eye, but..." here he paused. How to explain without sounding like an even bigger fool than he already felt? "But, I... I need to go home to the Shire. I know there's something wrong there and I'm worried about my old gaffer, uh, father. Mr. Frodo has lots o' folk to look out for him now and one day, he'll be home too and I can explain things to him then." He looked beseechingly into the eyes of king. "Please, sir, don't make me go back! I must get home to the Shire!"  
  
Eomer studied him in silence, then sighed in resignation. "Alright, Master Gamgee. It goes against my better judgment, but I see you are determined in this. However, I will send an escort with you to insure your safety on the long road ahead. Gandalf would have my head if I allowed anything to happen to you."  
  
"I will go with him," Hertig spoke up suddenly. Eomer and Sam turned to him in surprise. "Since it was Manelys and I that found him, I feel a responsibility to see him safely to his home."  
  
Eomer turned again to Sam. "Is that acceptable to you, Samwise Gamgee?"  
  
With tears burning the back of his throat at Hertig's generous offer, all Sam could do was nod. He would soon be on his way home. 


	13. The Truth Comes Out

If you already read this chapter, I removed the original and replaced it with this slightly different version. There was a small error that annoyed me and I changed one part just a little. Sorry for the inconvenience!  
  
Thanks again to all my faithful readers and reviewers!  
  
FrodoBaggins87: LOL! Glad you were able to read it at least!  
  
Dragonfly: I believe this chapter will answer your question.  
  
Laurajslr: I liked Hertig too, so I figured he could do more than simply bring Sam home! He's a good guy.  
  
Sam: Well, Gandalf wants to give her a good talking to! We may see her again yet!  
  
Althea: I can assure you that Frodo learning of Sam's fate isn't going to shorten this story any! LOL!  
  
Brownwyn: Martin really wasn't a bad guy, but Uzelle made him an offer he just couldn't refuse!  
  
Szhismine: It would be rather rude of Eomer to tie Sam, on of the Heroes of Middle Earth, in a sack don't you think!? LOL!  
  
Bookworm2000: Unfortunately for Martin, he doesn't really know much about halflings. He figures anything with big, hairy feet MUST be easy to track!  
  
Merimas: Yes, it is time Sam did something besides moon over Frodo! LOL! This story gives him the opportunity.  
  
Gamgeefest: My stories? Tortuous? Surely you jest!  
  
Renaissancegirl: Wow! What a loooong review! Thank you so much for pointing out my consistent error in misspelling "Pelennor". Argh! I try to be accurate, but must have spelled it wrong once and never looked back! I also try to correct spelling and grammar mistakes, although I know I always miss some. *sigh* Anyway, I truly appreciate your wonderful review (and it's nice to know there are other future librarians out there!) and I hope the rest of the story lives up to your expections!  
  
Now, on with the show...  
  
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Chapter 13 The Truth Comes Out  
  
Frodo, Merry, and Pippin had become more and more despondent as time went on without any sign of Sam. The entire city had been searched as had the roads and countryside around Minas Tirith. Despite Martin's story, Aragorn and Gandalf refused to give up. "There are too many holes in that story!" Gandalf had growled. Legolas and Gimli even spent two weeks scouring the wilds of Ithilien thinking perhaps Sam had gone seeking refuge there. Frodo grew more depressed and his friends worried about him, but what were they to do? Gandalf had gone to find Lady Uzelle but she seemed to have disappeared along with the gardener, Martin. Her servants simply said she had gone to one of her country estates. Her husband, Lord Angarhad had no idea where she had gone nor did he care.  
  
However, with the exception of his former companions, most of the inhabitants of Minas Tirith gradually forgot about the missing hobbit. Their attention was now drawn to the preparations for the King's wedding. The Elves had arrived and the people of Gondor were entranced. One hobbit more or less was hardly a reason for concern. Along with the Elves, came guests from the far reaches of Middle Earth. Eomer would not return for the wedding, being much involved in setting his homeland back to rights, but he did send representatives. One of which was most interested in finding Frodo Baggins.  
  
Frodo, Merry, and Pippin were taking a moment to escape from all the bustling activities in one of the palace gardens. Frodo was hardly in the mood for celebrating. The sun was high and the sky a dazzling robin's egg blue. It reminded the three hobbits of home.  
  
"Excuse me, my lord." Frodo looked up at the sound of the page's voice. He still had a difficult time being called "my lord", but had become resigned to it. "A Rider from Rohan would like a word with you."  
  
Frodo felt very weary and simply did not feel up to talking to anyone at the moment. Many times complete strangers had asked to see him just so they could tell their friends they had met the Ringbearer. He closed his eyes and sighed. "Please tell the Rider I will talk to him later. I really just want to rest for awhile."  
  
The page nodded and hurried away. Again the hobbits were left in peace. Frodo leaned back, basking in the warmth of the sun overhead, letting his thoughts drift aimlessly. Soon, he was dozing comfortably; but, not for long.  
  
"My lord?" Frodo slowly opened an eye and peered irritably at the anxious looking page.  
  
"I told you," grumbled Frodo, "I do not wish to see anyone right now! I can't imagine that this Rider has anything so urgent that it can't wait an hour or two!"  
  
The boy continued to look uncomfortable, but wouldn't give up. "My...my lord," he stammered, "The Rider says his message is most important and that you will skin me alive if I let him leave without allowing him to see you. He says you have been waiting for this message."  
  
Frodo looked at his cousins who were sitting nearby in the garden with him. They were as puzzled as he was. "Alright," said Frodo with a shrug, "Bring him along."  
  
The Rider strode into the garden, his helm securely held beneath his mailed arm, his long blonde hair streaming behind. He nodded formally to the three hobbits. "Forgive me for disturbing you, my lord," he began turning to Frodo, "But, I have news from King Eomer which should be of great interest to you and your kin."  
  
Again the three hobbits glanced at one another, then Frodo nodded for the Rider to continue. "The King commands me to tell you that your friend and comrade, Samwise Gamgee is safe and sound in the city of Edoras. He was quite ill for sometime, but has since recovered and will soon be on his way home to the Shire. I was told to tell you that Samwise sends his regrets and apologies and hopes to see you all soon in Hobbiton."  
  
For a few moments, the hobbits just gaped at him then pandemonium broke forth. "Sam is alive!" cried Frodo leaping to his feet. "Are you sure? Have you seen him? How did he get to Edoras? Why isn't he coming back here?" He was all but shaking the surprised Rider. Realizing this, Frodo flushed with embarrassment and stepped back.  
  
The Rider was unperturbed by this outburst and produced a faint smile. "Yes, my lord, I have seen him. He was nursed back to health by my sister and her husband, Hertig. It was Hertig who found Master Gamgee along the side of the Great West Road in the Firien Wood. All your friend would tell us was that he needed to return home to the Shire as he was concerned for his father. The king tried to persuade him to return to Minas Tirith, but Master Gamgee was adamant about returning to his homeland."  
  
Frodo shook his head in confusion. "But why?" he cried aloud. "Why would he just leave us without so much as a word? I know that woman upset him, but I cannot believe that would be sufficient to chase Sam away! And if he really was worried about the Gaffer, why wouldn't he have said something? This makes no sense!" His brow furrowed. "And what about Martin's story? How does that figure into this? The Anduin is nowhere close to where you say your brother-in-law found Sam. It simply makes no sense!"  
  
Merry glanced at Pippin standing beside him. "My guess is that witch, Lady Uzelle made up that whole story," he growled angrily. "You and Aragorn brought her down off her high horse and she wanted revenge. What better way than to tell us Sam was dead!"  
  
Frodo stared at his cousin for moment, his face darkening. What Merry said made perfect sense. Gandalf had never trusted Martin's story and Frodo had been in too much pain to think clearly. How could he have been so gullible! If he ever got his hands on that woman... ! He turned to the Rider. "Did Sam say anything more? Why he left Minas Tirith?" he asked desperately.  
  
The man simply shook his head. "I do not know, my lord" he replied quietly. "King Eomer himself was as perplexed as you and your cousins, but he could not force Master Gamgee to return to this city." He paused a moment as he reached into a pouch at his side. He pulled out a piece of parchment and handed it to Frodo. "My sister bade me give you this. Perhaps it will explain things. I do not know. However, it may further ease your mind to know that Hertig will accompany your friend to the Shire. He is a good man."  
  
Frodo sat heavily on the bench, still shaking his head and staring at the rolled parchment. The last such message had started this nightmare. Would this one end it? Taking a deep breath, he unrolled the message and read silently, his face growing paler with each passing moment. "I do not understand," he finally repeated in a low voice, his face paler than ever. He sat quietly for a moment, deep in thought, tears glistening in his eyes. Then wiping them away, he turned to Merry and Pippin. "This note says that Sam overheard some conversation I had with Gandalf and that I claimed I wished Sam had perished on Mt. Doom and that now I can barely stand the sight of him!" He had become very agitated now and was pacing back and forth.  
  
"How could he possibly think such a thing!?" he cried suddenly, turning to Merry and Pippin. His cousins had been so shocked by this news that they had yet to say anything. "When have I ever said anything to Sam that would lead him to believe I hate and him and wished him dead? He saved my life time and time again. He is like a brother to me! I would never, never say anything like that about Sam! I..." abruptly he froze as the memory of such a conversation did occur to him. But it hadn't been Sam he was talking about, but Gollum! Had Sam overheard that conversation and misunderstood believing instead that Frodo was talking about him? Frodo shuddered at the thought. That would explain so much, he thought dismally. Lady Uzelle's treatment would insult Sam, true, but Frodo's rejection would devastate him. "Oh, no," he whispered shaking his head in horror. "No!"  
  
Merry stared at Frodo's anguished face. He and Pippin exchanged worried glances. "Did...did you say something like that?" asked Merry hesitantly.  
  
Staring down at the note in his hands, Frodo nodded miserably. "But he got it all wrong!" he cried suddenly, his head snapping up. "I was talking about Gollum! Not him! I felt as if Gollum would always follow me in my mind and that I would never be rid of him! It was Gollum I wished had not followed me from Mordor! Oh, Sam!" He buried his head in his hands as the hot tears seeped from beneath his eyes. What had he done?  
  
Pippin laid a comforting hand on his cousin's shoulder. "Frodo," he said quietly, "All you have to do is explain it to Sam! He'll understand! Just knowing that you do not really hate him will change everything. Sam will be his old self in no time! You'll see!"  
  
Merry nodded. "This explains so much," he sighed, "If only we had known! We could have saved all of us so much unhappiness! Confound that stubborn, close-mouthed gardener! And that woman! She should be boiled in oil and fed to an orc!"  
  
Frodo gave his cousins a wavering smile. He glanced over at the Rider still standing nearby. "Thank you, sir," Said Frodo slowly coming to his feet. "The news you bring is most welcome. We thought Sam was dead and now we know he is alive and well! Do you know when he planned to leave for the Shire?"  
  
"He probably has already left, my lord," the Ride replied quickly. "Hertig told me that they would be leaving as soon as they were ready. Master Samwise was most eager to depart."  
  
Frodo again looked at Helveg's note. "I do wish Sam had written something to me," he sighed.  
  
The Rider looked at him sympathetically. "My sister did try to convince him to send such a missive. But Master Samwise said he was no good at writing things like that down and he would prefer to explain things in person."  
  
Frodo nodded, tears still in his eyes. "Yes," he said softly, "That does indeed sound like Sam. Dear Sam." He took a deep breath and turned to his cousins. "We must go after him," he said forcefully. "As soon as Aragorn and the Lady Arwen are wed, there is nothing holding us here."  
  
Merry looked troubled, "That may be true," he began slowly, "But I wish to attend King Theoden's funeral. Lord Eomer will be returning in a few weeks so he may carry the king back to Rohan and bury him among his ancestors." He looked up at Frodo with troubled eyes, "The king was like a father to me. I feel I owe it to him to be at his final farewell."  
  
Pippin laid a hand on Merry's arm, then turned to Frodo. "Sam will be all right, Frodo," he assured his cousin. "This fellow says Sam has an escort and after all, Sam is on his way home, to the Shire! Sam has been through the Mines of Moria, and even to the darkest heart Mordor and back. Somehow, I think he'll manage a trek through the South Farthing without harm! We'll be home ourselves soon enough and then you can have a long talk with that gardener of yours and find out all he has been hiding!"  
  
Frodo was still unhappy, but knew his cousins were right. It was only proper that Merry attend King Theoden's funeral and they would be home soon themselves. Sam would be traveling with an escort and truly, how much danger could there be in the Shire after all? 


	14. Homeward Bound

Author's note: Just a quick note this time! Thanks to all of you for your continued support and reviews! You guys are the best! A couple people asked how long this story is going to be. The answer is: I don't know! I have almost caught up to where I had originally stopped (not finished, just stopped) writing. I know what will happen in general, but I don't know how long it will take to get there!  
  
Chapter 14 Homeward Bound  
  
Sam and Hertig traveled in quiet companionship throughout the lengthy trip to the Shire. Sam had been most anxious to be on his way, but leaving Hertig's family was more difficult than he had imagined. He had become quite close to little Olwyn and Eldred. With tears in his eyes, he remembered their bittersweet parting. "Please don't go, Sam!" Olwyn had cried, her round, blue eyes swimming in tears. "I want you to stay!" She wrapped her small arms tightly around him, hugging him with all her might. Eldred stood to the side looking equally forlorn, but trying to act more grown up.  
  
"I am sorry, Miss Olwyn," Sam had choked, the tears caught in his throat, "But, I must go! My own father might be in a bit of trouble and I must go look to him. He's quite old and needs my help. You wouldn't want my father to go wanting or perhaps come to some harm because I wasn't there, would you?" Olwyn's face was buried in the folds of Sam's shirt, her thin shoulders shaking with her quiet sobs. She made no response for some moments before she finally raised her tear-streaked face to look up at her friend's.  
  
"No, Sam," she hiccupped, her tears still running freely. She understood about fathers being in danger and she was a brave and unselfish girl, despite her tender years. "You go save your father." She hiccupped some more as she gazed anxiously up at Sam's mournful face. "But you don't forget me!" Sam gave a small sad laugh as he affectionately caressed Olwyn's shining blonde hair.  
  
"I could never forget someone as pretty and as special as you, Miss Olwyn!" Sam smiled. "And I don't want you to go forgetting me, neither! So, I have something here for you to remember me by!" He reached into his pack and brought out a small carving of a beautiful elenor blossom, the yellow starflower he had so admired in Lothlorien. He smiled as Olwyn gently took the carving in her small hands. "I made this for you," he said as she examined it carefully. "I'm not much of a carver, but I do love flowers and you are as pretty as one! This is the prettiest flower I could think of. It grows where the elves live and it's as golden as your beautiful hair." Her tears forgotten, Olwyn beamed up at Sam in delight. She had never seen anything so marvelous. She threw herself into his arms again, laughing.  
  
Sam smiled down at her, then looked over to her brother standing nearby. "Don't think I forgot you, Master Eldred!" he exclaimed reaching into his pack. "I don't want your forgetting me either!" Eldred moved closer and grinned in pleasure as he took the small carved horse Sam handed to him. "It's my Bill," explained Sam a little self consciously. "He was the best pony that ever was. I know he don't compare to your magnificent horses here in Rohan, but he was just as brave and faithful!"  
  
"He's the one you let go outside the mines of Moria," said Eldred slowly, remembering the stories Sam had told them of his journeys. He gently ran his finger down the pony's smooth back as he examined all the details of Sam's brave pony. He looked up and met Sam's eyes. "I will always treasure Bill," he said solemnly. "I won't forget you!" He then ran over to Sam and the hobbit hugged him tightly in his arms. Finally, brushing away the tears, he turned to Hertig.  
  
"I guess, it's time for us to go," he said. He had already said his good- byes to Helveg and Hertig's mother, Bertah. He never could express his deep appreciation to them all for saving his life.  
  
Helveg looked fondly down upon the small hobbit before her. She had been deeply touched by the gifts he had given her children. Not just the carvings, but the stories and most of all, the friendship. Although the people of Rohan loved their children, life was hard and there was not much time for play. Sam had taken the time to develop a bond with Olwyn and Eldred and Helveg knew the children would forever remember this. There would always be a warmth in their hearts for the hobbits of the Shire.  
  
Hertig brought forth a small gray hill pony, for Sam. It was the brother of the one that had borne Merry when the Rohirrim had ridden forth to Dunharrow. Sam stroked the horse's soft nose and smiled as it nuzzled him gently. "His name is Trofast," said Hertig. "It means 'faithful'".  
  
Sam smiled at the affectionate animal. "I think you and I will be great friends!" he whispered. The horse gave a gentle snort and nibbled Sam's ear.  
  
Hertig and Sam mounted their horses and with a final wave good-by they headed up the Great West Road that would ultimately lead them to the Shire. The weather was fair now that they were into the spring and Sam reveled in the wildflowers they saw along the way. Rohan's wide plains were blanketed with brilliant blooms and it did Sam's gardener heart good to see them. It had been so long since he had been able to even think about growing things and the beauty of nature. It refreshed his soul.  
  
As they approached the Gap of Rohan, Hertig stood solemnly staring at the ruins surrounding Helm's Deep. Sam gaped at the massive keep built into the mountain. Hertig looked down at his hobbit companion. "This is where Rohan stood firm against the forces of Saruman," he said quietly. "Many a brave Rider was lost here. I deeply regret that I was not here until the end. If Gandalf had not found us and led us here at the eleventh hour, I fear all of the people of Edoras would have been lost." Sam knew that would have included Hertig's beloved wife and family. They watched awhile as men worked to repair the damage wrought by Saruman's uruk-hai and then continued on their way.  
  
They also passed by Saruman's tower at Isengard, although they did not stop. Sam and Hertig could see some of the massive Ents standing near Orthanc, others seemed to be working to clear the debris left by the mighty flood. Although Sam would have liked to see the tree herders up close, he did not feel comfortable approaching any closer. Perhaps if Gandalf or Strider had been along, it would have been different. Hertig knew little more about the Ents than did Sam, and was content to watch them from a distance.  
  
Still they continued on. They did not hurry, yet they did not they tarry anywhere along the way. Sam continued to feel a growing urgency to get home to Hobbiton, but at the same time, his thoughts and heart were back in Minas Tirith with Frodo. Being apart from his beloved master was most painful and he had to continually convince himself that he was doing the right thing.  
  
It took them a little over two weeks to finally reach Sarn Ford. Sam had debated whether or not to retrace the route he, Frodo, Merry and Pippin had taken, which would take them through Bree and Buckland. But, in the end, he decided he would prefer not to be reminded any more of Frodo than he already was and opted to go the more southerly route towards Michel Delving. Once he was in the Shire, he reasoned, he could easily cut across the countryside.  
  
As they passed into the rolling hills south of the Shire, Sam's anxiety began to grow. His nightmares had become more vivid now. Again and again he relived the destruction of the Shire as he had seen it in Lady Galadriel's mirror. He saw his father ill and suffering. He saw Rosie, thin and haggard and of course, amidst these dreams, he dreamt of Mordor and Frodo as well. Many a night Hertig rushed to Sam's side, holding the trembling hobbit in his powerful arms, soothing him as he would a small child. Sam would break down into tears, but reluctant to discuss his nightly terrors. Hertig watched him worriedly.  
  
They were perhaps a day's ride from the Sarn Ford, the entryway to the South Farthing when unexpectedly, Sam pulled Trofast to a halt and turned to Hertig. Puzzled, the Rider looked down at the pale hobbit beside him. "I think," began Sam slowly, "That when we reach the Shire, it would be best if I continued on alone." Hertig opened his mouth to protest, but Sam cut him off. "It's not that I don't want you to come with me, mind," he said, "But, if things are as bad as I fear they might be, I'm afraid that if I show up with a powerful warrior like yourself on my heels, it might make things a bit more difficult."  
  
Hertig frowned. This made no sense to him at all. "Why do you believe that things will be so amiss in your homeland?" he asked. "And be it true, would not having me beside you only strengthen your position?"  
  
Sam sighed. Of course he would like nothing more than to ride into Hobbiton, a tall and impressive Rider from Rohan accompanying him, but his dreams had shown him that there were more than hobbits skulking around the Shire and the last thing Sam wanted was for something to happen to Hertig. He feared that if they met up with the ruffians he believed were there, Hertig would try and fight them. It could easily end in his death. Sam simply could not bear the thought of Hertig's family being left without him. But, how to explain that to a warrior? No doubt Hertig would be insulted that Sam didn't want his protection. Sam had to present a plausible explanation.  
  
"Well," he replied, playing for time, "I need to scout out the lay o' the land, if you get my meanin' and it would be a sight more difficult with you along." He paused a moment. This wasn't going at all the way he'd hoped. He twisted Trofast's reins in his hands. "I just think it might be better if I went home quiet like, without anyone noticin' me. If things are good, then no harm's done, but if there's trouble, bringin' attention to myself could just make it worse. I don't want anything to happen to my old gaffer." He looked up pleadingly. "Do you understand?"  
  
Hertig studied Sam's anxious face for a few moments, then nodded. It was obvious the hobbit felt it would be better to arrive alone and without any fanfare. The Rider still was uncertain about the kind of trouble there might be ahead and whether or not he should abandon Sam to his fate. Sam smiled in relief. "And I surely would appreciate it if you could get word back to Mister Frodo that I arrived home safe and sound. Tell him again how sorry I am for running out on him like I did but I'll try and explain when he comes home." Home? Where was Mister Frodo's home now? Sam wondered. Bag End was now the property of that despicable Lotho Sackville- Baggins. Crickhollow? Frodo had barely stayed there. Sam then wondered if Fatty Bolger was still there. He'd have to find out. Perhaps Sam could plant some gardens there in preparation for Mister Frodo's return.  
  
"Sam?" Sam blinked, startled out of his reverie. He hadn't meant to let his mind wander like that. Hertig was peering at him in concern. "Are you certain you do not wish me to accompany you to Hobbiton? I would most gladly do so and it would reassure my heart that you were safe."  
  
"No," replied Sam firmly. "Whatever waits on the other side of the Sarn Ford, is my problem. I've been gone so long taking care of the world's business, it's time I came home and tended my own." With that, he gave Trofast's side a gentle kick and they continued on their way.  
  
It was late in the afternoon when they spied the Sarn Ford some distance ahead. Sam had not spent much time in the South Farthing and never as far as the Ford, but he was still surprised to make out some kind of gate barring the way. He paused and turned to his friend. "I think, Master Hertig," he said in a low voice, "It is time for me to go my own way now." Sam blinked back the tears threatening to spill free. The thought of going on alone terrified him, but he knew it was the proper thing to do.  
  
Hertig reached over and gripped Sam's arm. "I will wait here for three days," he replied. "If you have need of me, send a message and I will come." He still did not like the idea of letting Sam go on alone, He simply did not understand why Sam thought there would any sort of trouble in this idyllic place, but obviously the hobbit was worried.  
  
"Thank you, Master Hertig," smiled Sam, a slight quaver in his voice, "For saving my life and coming with me all the way to the Shire. I know your family misses you and it's time for you to go home. Don't worry about me! I've been to the blackest heart of Mordor itself! There's nothing in the Shire can compare with that!" Hertig nodded, released his grip and sat back to watch sadly as the small hobbit slowly rode forth. He looked terribly alone.  
  
Sam felt terribly alone. It didn't quite compare to the despair he felt in the pass of Minas Morgul when he believed Frodo to be dead, but it was close. It pained him deeply to be returning without his master not to mention, Merry and Pippin. How he wished they were all coming home together! He sighed sadly. He was coming home he scolded himself! To the Shire! No matter how bad things were (And don't forget, he reminded himself, he was basing all his fears on mere dreams), surely they couldn't be any worse that what he had already experienced on his long journey. Was there anything in the Shire to compare with Shelob the spider or the armies of orcs he'd already faced? Surely not! Oddly enough, these thoughts began to make him feel a little better, and with his head held high, he approached the gates of the Sarn Ford. 


	15. Sarn Ford

Author's Note: Continuing thanks for all the wonderful reviews! They really are encouraging to me! I'm afraid it may be a week or more before the next update. I have to go out of town in a few days and I may not be able to get another update done before I leave. I apologize!  
  
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FrodoBaggins87: I figured unless something crucial to the story happened on the journey, there was no reason to drag it out! The Shire is where things are happing, so that's where we need to get to!  
  
Szhismine: LOL! I'm glad you don't care how long it takes. I really don't know how long it will end up being. I'm sure more than another 3 or 4 chapters definitely! Sometimes you guys give me ideas, so things get added.  
  
Merimas Gamgee: Well, in this chapter we finally meet up with a few ruffians! Hope you like it!  
  
Bronwyn: I thought it was important for Sam to leave some memento of his stay with Hertig's family and given his nature, he thinks about EVERYONE else before he thinks of himself!  
  
Ertia: Thanks so much for reviewing and bookmarking my story! I'm glad you're enjoying it, but I'm afraid it will be awhile before Frodo and the others catch up with Sam!  
  
GamgeeFest: Sam doesn't have his old sword with him, but Eomer gave him one (it's mentioned in this chapter). Wouldn't want our hero to go into danger unarmed would we!?  
  
Frodo Freak2: Well, this story will be here for awhile, so just keep checking in!  
  
The Lady of Mirkwood: Welcome and thanks for reviewing! Poor Sam does have a tendency to suffer in my stories. I just can't seem to write happy, fluffy stories!  
  
Bookworm2000: Here is the answer to your question: Sam!  
  
Sam: I am SO sorry to hear that you had a bad prom! That's terrible! That alone would be depressing enough. Sorry my story isn't more cheerful. I sure hope this week is better for you!  
  
Ronzgirlz: Wow! I'm really flattered that you think that way! I think my writing is improving over time, so maybe one of these days I really will write that book! Thank you again so much for your kind words! I hope you continue to enjoy the story wherever it goes!  
  
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Chapter 15 Sarn Ford  
  
As Sam rode down the hill towards the ford, he was surprised to see a line of wagons waiting to cross over. Several had already been driven off the ferry on his side of the river and the ferryman was preparing to return for more. Sam frowned as he approached close enough to see the drivers. They were similar to the ruffians he and the other hobbits had seen in Bree at the beginning of their quest. Sam knew their presence did not bode well for the Shire and what were they transporting in those wagons? Sam remembered Merry telling him how he and Pippin had found several barrels of the finest Longbottom leaf in Saruman's storerooms. It appeared that Sam had just discovered their source. As he approached the sentry booth before the ford, two hobbits came out to meet him, neither looking pleased.  
  
"Stop right there!" cried the first one, a cudgel in his hand, "State your name and your business." His companion stood beside him, similarly armed and glowering menacingly. The men on the wagons turned to stare.  
  
Sam suddenly found himself more angry than scared. After all he had been through, he was in no mood to put up with this foolishness. "My name is Samwise Gamee, son of Hamfast, from up to Hobbiton way. I've been on a long journey and I'm goin' home! Now, if you'll be moving out of the way, I'd like to continue." He moved his cloak slightly so that his sword became more visible. It was not the faithful sword he had carried all the way from the Barrows and now lay in Minas Tirith, but an elegant Rohirrim weapon made especially for him by King Eomer. It looked no less deadly.  
  
The two hobbits looked at each other, a touch of nervousness eroding their bravado. They rarely had to deal with any problems besides the wagons and an armed hobbit was something entirely new. The first one looked back over his shoulder at the leering men. Squaring his shoulders, he turned back to Sam.  
  
"Don't you know it's against the rules to travel around the Shire without permission?" he demanded, trying to sound forceful. "We can't be allowin' just anyone over the border. You'll have to wait in the guardhouse til we can get permission from the Chief up in Hobbiton to let you through."  
  
Sam scowled at the hobbit. Since he was not from around these parts, Sam certainly didn't recognize either of these hobbits. He considered the matter. If all these men had not been present, he would have simply ignored these two blowhards and gone on his way, but he knew he couldn't fight or avoid the ten or so ruffians in the immediate vicinity. Perhaps the best plan of action was to pretend to agree and then when the Men left, make good his escape.  
  
"Alright," Sam said to the first hobbit, "I'll wait til you can get permission from this "Chief" of yours. How long will that take?"  
  
Again the two sentries exchanged glances. "Well," said the first with a smirk, "Could take a week. Maybe two. The Chief is mighty busy you know."  
  
Sam rolled his eyes in frustration. This was ridiculous! "Fine, I'll wait," he grumbled, "But certainly NOT in your guardhouse. I'll make my camp back up the hills away. You can let me know when the "Chief" sends his permission!" Before they had a chance to respond, Sam abruptly turned Trofast and cantered back up the hill.  
  
Sitting in the cool shade of a massive oak, Hertig looked up in surprise as Sam came storming into view. The Rider stood up and watched apprehensively as Sam approached. Sam slid off his horse and began pacing. He was fuming. "What a lot of Tom-fools!" he snarled. "Who are they to tell me I can't cross the river! After all I've been through, I can't believe I can not even get back into the Shire! If all those ruffians hadn't been there, things would have been different, I can tell you that!"  
  
Hertig watched in amazement as Sam stalked back and forth in the clearing growling to himself. The Rider had never seen this side of Sam and it was something of a shock to realize good-natured Sam was capable of such fury. "Excuse me, Sam," he began somewhat hesitantly. "Is there a problem?"  
  
Sam stopped his pacing and whirled to glare at the startled Rider. "I'll say there is!" he snapped, "A bunch of fools at the ford won't let me pass until they've gotten "approval" from some Chief of theirs in Hobbiton! Claimed it could take two weeks! I'll not wait another day! I've been all the way to Mordor and back. It's been close to a year since I've set foot in the Shire and I'll not let a couple of fools stop me! If they hadn't had a bunch of ruffians backing them up, I wouldn't be here now!" He began pacing again, running his hand over the pommel of his sword, cursing under his breath.  
  
Hertig ran his hand over his face as he considered the situation. "Is there another bridge or ford nearby?" he asked.  
  
Sam continued to scowl. "The nearest crossing is the Bucklebury Ferry and it's close to a hundred miles up the river! I am not going to walk so far just to cross the river when there's a perfectly good ferry just down the road!"  
  
Hertig nodded, trying not to smile. "Perhaps we should explore the river a ways. There might be a place where the horses could swim across. You could ride on Manelys with me and Trofast could follow."  
  
Sam sank to the ground beside the tree. "I don't want to get you involved in this, Master Hertig," Sam said, "But if you can help me at least get across the river without having to deal with that lot at the ford, I'd be much obliged. Then, I can make my way cross country to Hobbiton without any problem. If these fellows are an example of what's plaguing the Shire, than I'm more worried than ever about me gaffer." And Rosie, he thought.  
  
They mounted the horses and staying well away from the Sarn ford, worked their way along the bank of the river. Hertig and Manelys frequently rode into the river testing its depth and current. It was several miles before they finally found a spot where Manelys could swim across without the danger of being swept away. Sam waited patiently on the far side for the horse and rider to return to him. Manelys snorted shaking his massive head, spraying Sam and Trofast with water. Hertig just laughed. "Come along, Sam," he said reaching out for the dripping hobbit. "Manelys can easily carry us both and I do not believe Trofast will have any problem swimming across if we hold tightly onto his lead." Hertig easily swung Sam unto the saddle behind him, then grabbed onto Trofast's reins. Urging Manelys forward, they entered the cold waters of the Baranduin.  
  
Hertig felt Sam tense behind him, the hobbit's hold on his waist became almost painful. Hertig turned and was surprised by the change in Sam's expression. The hobbit's face had gone ghostly white and his eyes were screwed tightly shut. He was breathing hard and Hertig could feel Sam trembling. He was terrified by the water! thought the Rider in dismay. "Are you alright, Sam?" he asked.  
  
"I'll be fine once we're on the other side," replied Sam through gritted teeth. His hold tightened a bit further. Hertig gave him a sympathetic smile, then concentrated on the journey across the river. Little Trofast struggled valiantly behind them. Hertig heard Sam give a tremendous sigh of relief once Manelys' hooves touched solid ground and the stallion struggled up the steep bank with the pony following. They had made it. Hertig lowered Sam back to the ground and the hobbit remounted his faithful pony.  
  
"You did a fine job, Trofast!" Sam whispered into the pony's ear and patted him affectionately. He wished he had a carrot or apple for his brave mount.  
  
The trees were heavy on this side of the river and moving through them was difficult for Hertig and Manelys. However, the Rider was determined to make sure Sam got on his way safely this time. Sam on Trofast had far less difficulty weaving through the trees and underbrush. Manelys did not like the confined space of the forest and Hertig was having to focus most of his attention on keeping the big animal in line. Sam was feeling uncomfortable as well and he kept peering worriedly around him. Something just didn't feel right.  
  
They attacked just as Sam and Hertig were nearing the edge of the woods. Several coarse looking men armed with clubs and knives appeared in front of Hertig and Sam ordering them to stop. Sam was both horrified and furious. When he saw the men appear from the woods, he knew they were in trouble and without thinking, soon had his sword in his hand. He could not believe that he was having to defend himself in the Shire against such trash! Sam could see that Hertig also had his sword free and was prepared to fight. Unfortunately, he was severely hampered by the density of the trees. Rohirrim were at their best on the open plains of Rohan, but Hertig was determined that nothing would happen to Sam while he was here. But such was not to be. Neither Sam nor Hertig even had a chance to use their weapons as several more of the men leaped down on them from the trees above dragging them both to the ground. Manelys screamed in anger and began rearing and kicking. Two of the men were killed outright by the horse's flailing hooves but after several of the men managed to get a ropes around Manelys' neck, they were able to immobilize the crazed horse.  
  
It took Sam a few moments to realize what had happened. The weight of the man had slammed him into the ground, knocking out his breath. The man quickly rose and kicked Sam's sword away, then reached down, grabbed the hobbit by the collar and hauled him to his feet. Struggling frantically, Sam managed to slip out of his jacket and flung himself towards his sword. Before the startled man had time to react, Sam had the gleaming weapon in his hand. With a cry of rage, the frenzied hobbit swung his sword and sliced into the man's outstretched arm. The man howled in pain and stumbled backwards, blood streaming down his injured arm. He had hardly expected this kind of resistance from a mere halfling! Sam turned towards Hertig, and was enraged to see the struggling Rider being held down by five of the burly men.  
  
"No!" cried Sam as he charged forward, intent on rescuing his friend, but it was all in vain. The injured man had regained his club and descended upon Sam with a vengeance. With an explosion of pain, Sam plummeted into the black world of unconsciousness. Hertig soon followed. Sam had just barely stepped onto the soil of his beloved Shire and already things had gone terribly wrong. He and Hertig were now prisoners. 


	16. The Shire

Author's Note: Just a quick note as I must get to work! Sorry for the delay in getting this chapter updated. I had to go out of town but I'm back now, so here is the next update. Thanks again for all the wonderful reviews! You guys make writing these stories such fun! Hope you enjoy it!  
  
Chapter 16 The Shire  
  
Why won't the pounding stop? Sam thought dimly as he slowly regained consciousness. His head was throbbing relentlessly and he was confused as to where he was. He opened his eyes and found himself lying on a pile of moldering straw, bound hand and foot. It was dark out, although the moon was shining brightly. Sam blinked, trying to bring the world into focus and at the same time, minimize the pain in his head. He could hear a rasping beside him and slowly turning his head he spotted Hertig lying beside him. The Rider was still unconscious and his face was pale in the moonlight, but Sam could make out the dark blood covering Hertig's face. Sam's felt his stomach drop has he realized his friend might be seriously injured. He peered around in the darkness and realized they were in a wagon of some sort. The wagon wasn't moving at the moment so he figured that was a good thing. At least it was easier on his head.  
  
Off to the side, Sam heard voices and he realized their attackers must have made camp for the night. What were they planning on doing with him and Hertig, he wondered anxiously. Tentatively, Sam pulled on the ropes binding his hands behind his back, but they were unyielding to his efforts. He closed his eyes again to try and think, but the pain was making it difficult. Moments later, he let the comforting blackness of unconsciousness overtake him once more.  
  
The next time he awoke, the wagon was moving and he was being bounced uncomfortably around in the hard bed. The straw did little to cushion him against the jouncing and aggravating the pain in his head. The bright morning sun was almost painful to Sam's eyes and he was unbearably thirsty. He looked over at Hertig and was disheartened to see the Rider was still out and looking pale. The dried blood and bruising on his face looked even worse in the light of day. 'This is all my fault!' he thought mournfully. Hertig wasn't even supposed to be here! He should be home with his family back in Edoras. Again, anger supplanted fear in his heart. This was his beloved Shire and none of this should be happening here! With renewed vigor, Sam began pulling on his ropes again attempting to loosen them even a little.  
  
"Hey!" cried an angry voice above him. Sam peered upwards and saw a man sitting on the wagon seat glowering down at him. "Leave them ropes alone, rat!" growled the man, "Or I'll give you another knock on the head that'll make the first one seem like nothing and believe me, I'd like nothing better!" It was then Sam noticed the bloodstained bandage around the man's arm. He sighed in frustration and lay still. He couldn't feel his hands or feet anyway. Even if he did get loose, he wouldn't get very far. Besides, he couldn't abandon Hertig. He would just have to be patient and see what the day brought.  
  
They stopped at midday and the wounded man came back to check on the prisoners. He had a long knife in his hand and he leered at Sam as he played the sharp point along Sam's throat. "I don't think anyone would miss one more lousy little shire-rat," he smiled, displaying his black and rotted teeth. "If it were up to me, I'd string you up along with that bunch over there!" He pointed with his knife behind Sam. "Oh! I guess you can't see 'em," he exclaimed in mock surprise. "Well, let's just take care of that!" The man reached over and grabbed Sam like a sack of potatoes and threw him over his shoulder. Sam moaned at the renewed throbbing in his injured head. With each step the man took, it felt like someone was pounding on Sam's skull with a very large mallet. However, even through his pain, he became aware of a very distinctive, very disturbing smell. It was the smell of death.  
  
Suddenly the man stopped and dropped Sam to the ground at the base of a massive oak. For a moment, Sam almost blacked out, feeling the world reeling about him. Roughly, the man seized hold of Sam and rolled him onto his back. It was then Sam was met with the most ghastly sight he had ever had to endure. He had seen death aplenty on his journey, but this was something entirely different. This was far worse than anything he had experienced before! Dangling above him like some sort of obscene ornaments, were the decaying bodies of five hobbits: three men, one woman, and a boy. Carrion crows, disturbed by the presence of the men, waited in the branches, screeching angrily. Sam felt himself go cold then desperately rolled over to his side where he was violently ill. He could hear the men's foul laughter echoing in his ears.  
  
"That's what we do to Shire-rats that don't do as they're told," the first man hissed in Sam's ear, then laughed again. Sam closed his eyes, fighting another wave of nausea. How could this happen? Were these atrocities occurring in Hobbiton as well? He should never have left!  
  
"Cut the runt loose, Fig!" called one of the men by the wagon. He was the largest man with a scar running across his face from the corner of his left eye to the right corner of his mouth. It gave him a fearsome, lopsided look. "He ain't going noplace and he can cook and wash up. Might as well put him to some use!" The wounded Fig, nodded reluctantly, then taking his knife, he slashed through the ropes binding Sam's arms and feet. For a moment, Sam felt nothing, then he gasped in pain as the feeling returned. For several minutes the men just stood and laughed mockingly at Sam as he lay in the dirt grimacing in agony. Finally, the tingling and burning subsided and Sam slowly and unsteadily climbed to his feet. He kept his eyes carefully averted from the corpses hanging nearby and stumbled back towards the wagon.  
  
One of the men had a small fire going and was preparing the midday meal. The men were in no particular hurry to get to Hobbiton and had no intention of giving up any more than they had to. "Here, rat," growled the man thrusting a pail at Sam. "There's a stream behind that grove of trees. Bring back some water. Don't get no ideas about runnin' off neither, or your long haired friend there will pay the price!" Sam swallowed apprehensively as he glanced towards the wagon where Hertig still lay. As he took the pail and turned towards the trees where the bodies hung, he noticed neither Manelys nor Trofast were anywhere to be seen. Sam hoped they were alright. He sighed wearily and headed to the stream, knowing the man was right. He couldn't run off and abandon Hertig.  
  
There were four men taking the prisoners to Hobbiton. If it had just been Sam, they might have only sent one, but none of them trusted the powerful looking Rider. It was obvious to them that Hertig was a fighting man and not to be taken lightly. However, since the soldier had yet to regain consciousness, the men were relaxed and amused themselves with tormenting Sam.  
  
To Sam, the journey to Hobbiton seemed to take weeks rather than days. The ruffians put him to work whenever they stopped and would beat him if he didn't work fast enough. That was bad enough, but it was what he observed throughout the countryside that truly upset him. Everywhere great tracts of forest were being cut down and burned, making room for more crops. Sam could see hobbits working out in the fields with men hovering over them wielding whips and clubs. Frequently, they passed wagons full of goods heading south and Sam had no doubt that none of the hobbits slaving in the fields would benefit from the sale of those items. The hobbits he could see looked thin and worn and more than once, he spied bodies hanging from trees, gently twisting in the breeze. The Shire had become a land of nightmares.  
  
It took three days before they finally reached the outskirts of Hobbiton. Sam was thoroughly demoralized by what he had seen and the destruction of Hobbiton just made it worse. The beautiful trees lining the road had all gone. Ugly wooden shacks had replaced the snug hobbit holes and Bagshot Row was nothing but an open sore on the face of the hill. Sam felt sick.  
  
Coarse looking men were everywhere, leaning against buildings, wandering the streets, just looking for trouble. They watched the wagon pass with leering faces. "Hey Mac!" cried one of the watchers to the scarfaced man, "Where'd you catch that fancy lookin' runt?" Sam looked down at his clothing. Although they were worn and dirty from the trip, they were still more elegant than typical Shire wear. He suddenly felt very conspicuous.  
  
"You wanta see fancy, you should see his big, yeller-haired friend in the back," Mac called back. "All kinds o' fancy armor and such." He pulled the wagon to a halt and several of the men came over to peer into the wagon.  
  
Hertig was still not awake and lay securely bound in the wagon. Sam had been nursing him as best he could, but there wasn't much he could do. Every day he managed to get at least some water down his throat, but the Rider's condition remained unchanged. Sam was desperately worried for his friend.  
  
""Whoa! Yer right about that one, Mac," said a short man with a mustache, a little nervously. "He's a big 'un alright. Where'd ye catch these two?"  
  
"Down by Sarn Ford," Mac replied nonchalantly, picking his teeth with his knife. "Trying to sneak in over the border, they was! Bunch of us heard 'em comin' and laid an ambush. Caught 'em completely by surprise! Can't have riff-raff like this just walkin' in anytime they please, now can we?" The men all laughed and Sam felt himself growing angrier by the moment. Who was this trash calling "riff-raff"?  
  
"We're takin' them to the Chief," said Fig, speaking up for the first time. "That little Shire-rat cut me with a sword! Aught to be hung from a tree for that!"  
  
The others growled their agreement and eyed Sam threateningly. Nothing made these ruffians angrier than some little runt fighting back. Sam glowered right back. He was proud of having wounded one of these villains and would gladly do so again. Fig, noticing Sam's defiant look, reached back and cuffed him hard on the head. "You won't look so tough when we're done with ye," he snarled. Sam said nothing.  
  
The wagon continued up the road until it finally came to a stop in front of Bag End. There was nothing left of Mr. Frodo's beautiful gardens that Sam had so lovingly tended. It was all mud and weeds. Behind it were ugly, tarred shacks. For what, Sam had no idea. His very soul felt wounded by all the destruction. Sam wondered again where his father was and if his siblings and their families were all right. Of course, he also worried about Rosie Cotton and her family.  
  
The door to Bag End opened and out strutted none other than Lotho Sackville- Baggins, an obese figure with small, piggy eyes. He was dressed in fine velvets and silk resembling nothing less than a stuffed peacock. He was attended by two, surly looking men armed with clubs. So this was the Chief everyone was so afraid of, thought Sam grimly. He was not impressed. Lotho swaggered up to the side of the wagon and looked in.  
  
"Well, well, well," he sneered in his whiney voice, "If it isn't Samwise Gamgee back from the dead! What happened, Sam, Frodo fire you?" Lotho laughed loudly at his own weak joke. Sam just glared. Lotho's eyes narrowed with irritation. He had become quite accustomed to others fawning over him or cowering in fear, and he didn't like this defiant behavior one bit. He would have to put a stop to it immediately. Lotho then noticed the unconscious figure of the Rider lying in the wagon bed. "What's this?" he demanded, turning to Mac. "Where did he come from?"  
  
Mac looked down at Lotho and smirked. "He was with the hobbit there," he replied. "We ambushed 'em both and brought 'em along. Didn't think you'd want some great warrior on the loose, now would you?"  
  
Lotho stared nervously at the soldier. "No, no," he faltered slightly, "Of course not. Well, take him to the lockholes and lock him up. We certainly don't want the likes of him wandering about!" He then turned again to Sam. "This one, however," Lotho's bravado was back, "He stays here. I think the gardens of Bag End could use some work and no one knows them better than Samwise Gamgee."  
  
"The only flowers of yours I'd tend to, Lotho Sackville," Sam spat, not wanting to taint the Baggins name by associating with the likes of this little pimple, "Would be the ones on your grave!" Lotho pulled himself up to his full height, which still put him several inches shorter than Sam, and backhanded the defiant gardener across the face.  
  
"If I say you'll plant me the grandest gardens in all of Middle Earth, you'll do it!" Lotho shrieked furiously, "And if you don't," a sly look came into his piggy eyes, "Well, the lockholes aren't very kind to the elderly. Your father, Hamfast is it? Might not fare too well if he were to find himself locked up. Hmm?"  
  
Putting a hand to his bleeding lip, Sam could feel the blood draining from his face. The Gaffer locked up in some cold, dank hole? What was this monster thinking? But, Sam knew he was beaten. If he didn't tend the gardens of Mr. Lotho, his father would suffer for it. Mutely, he stared at Lotho, then slowly nodded. Lotho laughed contemptuously. "I knew you'd see it my way," he gloated. He turned to his men. "You two," he pointed to Mac and Fig,"Take that soldier over to Michel Delving and lock him away. He can stay there and rot for all I care." He turned to two others. "Escort my new gardener to one of the sheds in back and lock him in. He can start his duties in the morning." Lotho then turned and sauntered back into the Bag End slamming the door firmly behind him.  
  
Sam stared mutely at the wagon as it moved away down the road. What would happen to Hertig now? One of the men roughly yanked Sam's arm and hauled him up the hill to one of the shacks. Opening the door, he flung the dispirited hobbit inside. A moment later, the door slammed shut leaving Sam alone in the dark. Lying on the cold, damp soil, hot tears stung Sam's eyes. This was hardly the homecoming he had envisioned. He had hoped to make things better and so far, he had only made things considerably worse. 


	17. Friends in the Shire

Author's Note: Here is the next chapter. Moving right along! As always, thank you all so much for the reviews!  
  
Merimas Gamgee: Looking at my maps (in the "Atlas of Middle Earth"), it looks to me like the road from Sarn Ford to Waymeet skirts the western edge of the Took's land. According to the book, Lotho's men had surrounded the Tookland keeping anyone from going in or out. Thus, I figured that they would have at least secured the main road running through the area. After all, Lotho had been shipping stuff south and that road would have been the only efficient way of doing it.  
  
Renaissancegrrl: I figured the men in the outlying areas were less under the Chief's control and more likely to resort to violence than those closer to Hobbiton. Not very nice fellows at all! I also believe that Sam probably knows a lot more curse words than we give him credit for! LOL!  
  
Laurasjlr: We will be seeing the other hobbits at some point. Just not sure when exactly! We will also be hearing more from poor Hertig.  
  
Sam: Yeah, life in the Shire isn't exactly a fun experience these days! Help will come....eventually!  
  
Gamgeefest: Actually, I've only seen Xena a few times, but I always thought bodies hanging in trees to be a rather effective, if gruesome, warning to others and goodness knows, it seems to have been used often enough (runaway slaves, pirates, thieves, etc.) As I mentioned above, I felt like the ruffians in the outlying areas were freer to do what they wanted without fear of reprisal.  
  
Bronwyn: Yeah sort of like insult to injury. Not only does Sam despise Lotho, but now he has to work for him at Bag End no less! The suffering our hero must endure never ends! LOL!  
  
Nymredil72: Thanks for reviewing again! I sure appreciate it! Yeah, I could have ended it with everything wrapping up neatly when Frodo found out why Sam was upset, but where's the fun in that when there's so much more misery to be had!  
  
Szhismine: Sam certainly has a habit of running into despicable people in my stories! Of course without them, what dull stories these would be!  
  
Bookworm2000: Well, we pretty much know what the Shire is like when Frodo and the others return, but of course this time, Sam will already be there. Just what Sam's circumstances will be remains to be seen!  
  
FrodoBaggins87: I haven't quite decided how I'll work the Saruman and Sam situation yet, but when I do, you know it won't be fun for our Sam!  
  
Althea: I'm glad you're enjoying the story and that all is not well for Sam. He still has a ways to go before things improve. Maybe I really should try and write happy stories some day....naaaah.  
  
Ronzgirlz: Thanks for the kind words. I try to make my stories interesting and frankly, I abhore slash. To me, it goes against everything Tolkien wrote (not to mention it really seems absurd – Legolas and Aragorn? Legolas and Gimli? Legolas well, with just about everybody? Blechh!). Thus, you will never see it my stories!  
  
Anyway, thanks again to all my wonderful readers and reviewers! Hope you enjoy the chapter!  
  
Chapter 17 Friends in the Shire  
  
It was a long, cold night for Samwise Gamgee locked away in the shed. His head throbbed from inhaling the acrid tar fumes and he ached all over. He hardly slept at all. What has happened to Hertig, he worried. Would his friend be all right? Sam felt weighted down with guilt for what had happened to the Rider. If Sam had stayed in Minas Tirith with Frodo and the others, Hertig would be home safe and sound with his family and Sam wouldn't be locked in a shed facing a life of slaving away for that loathsome Lotho Sackville-Baggins! What a fool he had been!  
  
Sam spent the night huddled in a corner of the shed trying to keep warm. He watched wearily as space beneath the door gradually grew lighter. Dawn had arrived. It wasn't long before the he heard the sound of the lock being undone and the door swung open. He groaned to himself as he spied Fig's sneering face peering in at him.  
  
"Come on, runt," he snarled holding the door open. "The Chief wants you to start workin' on his garden straight away, so get a move on." It was then Sam noticed the whip in Fig's hand and the eager look in the man's bloodshot eyes. It was obvious the ruffian had been drinking and even more obvious that he couldn't wait for some excuse to use his whip.  
  
Silently, Sam rose to his feet, his stiff limbs aching as he stumbled through the door. Sam cried out in pain as Fir struck the side of his head with the butt of the whip. "I said, MOVE" snapped the man giving Sam a hard push which sent the hapless hobbit flying into the mud. Sam's face burned with anger as he listened to Fig snickering behind him. Again, without a word, Sam climbed to his feet wiping the mud off as best he could then heading to where he could see a wheelbarrow and tools piled up. Grumbling, Fig hurried after him.  
  
Sam surveyed the ruined gardens with growing dismay. He had spent so many happy hours working in these gardens first for Mister Bilbo and then for Mister Frodo. It broke his heart to see such wanton destruction. With a sigh, he began to work. At least it felt good to be back working with the soil and plants again, even if was for that accursed Lotho.  
  
As the sun rose higher and higher in the sky, the day grew uncomfortably hot. Sam's throat was burning with thirst and he felt dizzy from lack of food. When he had asked Fig if he might rest and have a drink of water, all he received was a lashing for his efforts. Blood seeped through the back of his tattered shirt and Sam constantly bit back sharp cries of pain. He refused to give Fig the satisfaction of knowing how much he had hurt him.  
  
It was late in the afternoon now and Sam was having a difficult time. He was feeling shaky and his head pounded. His clothing was soaked with blood and sweat and he was dangerously dehydrated. Pushing his sodden hair from his face, Sam noticed Fig had fallen asleep beneath the shade of one of the sheds. Knowing he had a few moments respite, Sam sunk to the ground as if his legs could no longer hold him. This was not far from the truth. As he lay panting in the scant shade provided by the wheelbarrow, he heard some quiet steps approaching but Sam simply did not have the energy to see who it was. If it was that horrible Fig, he'd certainly know soon enough.  
  
"Sam?" Sam started at the quiet voice. Opening his eyes, he found himself staring up into the startled face of his old friend, Jolly Cotton. "Sam?" the voice repeated just as quietly, "Is that really you?"  
  
"Jolly?" croaked Sam, still not sure if he should believe his eyes. The face broke into a relieved grin.  
  
"Aye, Sam! T'is me!" Jolly frowned as he looked at Sam's pale, bruised face. He then glanced over to where Fig sat snoring. Quickly, the hobbit reached down to a water skin he carried at his side, and lifting Sam's head, gently poured some water down his throat. "Easy, Sam!" he cautioned, "Not too much at once! I've seen more than one good hobbit laid low by those ruffians and it don't look like they've been overly gentle with you!"  
  
Sam desperately gulped down as much water as Jolly would allow, then lay back with a relieved sigh. "I thank you for that, Jolly Cotton," he whispered. "Don't know how much longer I coulda gone on. Haven't had no drink nor food since early yesterday."  
  
Still looking apprehensive, Jolly pulled out a hunk of bread and broke it into small bites for Sam to choke down. "What're you doin' here, Sam?" Jolly finally asked as he continued scanning the area nervously for any sign of approaching ruffians. "We thought you and the others must be dead by now. We've had no word for these many months. Is Mr. Frodo with you?"  
  
Wordlessly, Sam shook his head. Again, that wave of guilt washed over him. "No, he and Mr. Merry and Mr. Pippin are still in Minas Tirith." Jolly frowned at Sam blankly. He had little idea of what lay outside the borders of the Shire. Sam sighed. "It's a city a good long ways from here," he explained. "In Gondor. Takes weeks to get there."  
  
Jolly was silent for a moment. That still didn't mean much to him. "Why aren't you with them, then?" he finally asked. "Did Mr. Frodo send you on ahead?"  
  
Sam gave a small rueful laugh. "No, Jolly," he said sadly, "I came along on my own. I was worried about me gaffer." He then looked at his friend. "Have you seen him, Jolly? My gaffer? Is he alright?"  
  
Jolly frowned again. "Well, he could be a sight better," he said, bitterness in his voice. "When they dug up Bagshot Row, they made him move into one o' them awful shacks. Me dad brings him some food when he can, but there's all sorts o' rules now against sharin' food and such. Seems the only one yer allowed to share with these days is the Chief!"  
  
"The "Chief," spat Sam angrily. "The only thing I'd like to share with him is the business end of my sword!" He slowly pushed himself up to a sitting position and looked around. He glanced over at the snoring Fig. "If it weren't for me Gaffer, I'd be up and out o' here in a minute," Sam muttered. He turned to Jolly, "Lotho claimed he'd lock the Gaffer in someplace called "the lockholes" if I didn't do his gardening. Now, I don't rightly know what these lockholes are, but I'm certain they're nothing good."  
  
Jolly shook his head, handing the Sam the waterskin again. "You'd be right enough there, Sam." He sighed. "Old Lotho and his bunch have taken over the storage holes in Michel Delving and are using them as a jail. They've locked up anybody they feel ain't cooperatin'. Mayor Whitfoot was one o' the first. Pimple, that's what we call ol' Lotho, has appointed a whole slew of new Shirriffs; some willin', some not. But, they ain't got no choice. Then, o' course, there's all them men. Well, I'm guessin' you've seen enough o' them to know what they're like!"  
  
Sam nodded grimly, thinking of the bodies he'd seen hanging from the trees. He wondered if Jolly knew about those. He was about to ask, when he heard an angry roar. Looking up, he saw Fig charging down the hill towards him, whip raised. "Run!" hissed Sam pushing Jolly away. Jolly scurried off, looking back in horror. The young hobbit watched as the furious ruffian brought the whip down on Sam again and again. Sam fell to his side, curling himself up to protect himself from the cruel bite of the whip. He never made a sound.  
  
Jolly ran as fast as he could towards his father's farm. He kept out of sight as best he could, not wanting to draw attention to himself. He was appalled at Sam's condition and the way he was being treated. Sam was much thinner than Jolly had ever remembered him and there was a deep pain behind those world-weary eyes. This was not the carefree, happy-go-lucky Samwise Gamgee Jolly had known before. When he reached home, his family was just sitting down to a meager supper.  
  
"Jolly!" cried his mother in surprise as he bolted through the door. Panting, he slammed it behind him and leaned against it. His father, old Tom Cotton, rose to his feet and hurried over to his son.  
  
"Jolly?" he asked, "What's wrong, lad?" The rest of the Cotton family stared at Jolly in alarm waiting for him to catch his breath.  
  
"It...it's Samwise Gamgee!" Jolly gasped wiping the sweat from his brow. "He's back! I just saw him up at Bag End. Old Pimple is forcin' Sam to work his gardens and he's got that accursed Fig guardin' him."  
  
"Fig!" spat Tom Cotton, his face darkening with anger. "That villain will be the death of poor Sam! Was Mr. Frodo with him? Or Merry Brandybuck or Pippin Took?"  
  
Jolly shook his head. "Sam said they was still in some city a long ways from here. I'm still not certain why Sam came on alone, but with the way Fig's treatin' him, he'll be lucky to still be alive by the time Mr. Frodo and the others get back." Jolly paused a moment to take a drink of water. "Fig was alayin' into poor Sam with that whip of his when last I saw him." A cry of horror stopped him and Jolly turned to see his sister Rosie standing nearby, her face white as chalk and tears traced glistening trails upon her pale cheeks. Her clenched hands covered her mouth as if to stop any further cries. Her mother hurried to Rosie's side and guided her gently into a chair.  
  
"We can't let them do that to Sam!" cried young Tom, another of Farmer Cotton's sons. "He's like one o' the family! We need to go rescue him!"  
  
"It ain't that simple," sighed Jolly. "Sam said that if he don't work for the Pimple, they'll put his gaffer into the lockholes. "  
  
"You know his pa ain't been that well this winter since they put 'im in that drafty shack," said Mrs. Cotton, shaking her head sadly. "Sticking an old feller like him in one of them lockholes might just be the death of 'im. Sam could never live with that!"  
  
Her husband nodded looking discouraged. "You're right. If we go rescuin' Sam and hidin' him, no tellin' what that Pimple will have his thugs do to the Gaffer. But that don't mean we have to let the poor lad starve! Jolly, you keep an eye out and see where they're akeepin' Sam. Probably in one o' them shacks by the garden. When we get the chance, we'll sneak some food in to him. It's the least we can do." Unhappily, the others agreed.  
  
Rosie sat in her chair wiping the tears from her face. She had listened carefully to all that was said and she had every intention of being involved. She would be the one to take the food to Sam if she had anything to say about it! She had missed the quiet gardener more than she wanted to admit since he disappeared so many months ago and it made her furious to hear of Sam's mistreatment by the Chief's ruffians. Maybe they couldn't rescue him right off, but they could certainly help 


	18. Out of the Frying Pan

Author's Note: As always, thanks for the wonderful reviews and support! Might not get the next update up as quickly as the last two, but shouldn't be too long!  
  
FrodoBaggins87: We should be visiting our other friends in one of the next few chapters. I'm still deciding how I want to do that.  
  
Lauralsjr: I know Sam was in a bad way in Minas Tirith, but I felt that as he needed to depend more on himself and less on Frodo, he would become stronger, especially once he was back in the Shire. He is still desperately sad over his supposed rejection by Frodo, but now he has other things and people to occupy his mind so he can't spend so much time brooding! I always felt Sam was a very resilient character.  
  
Hobbity: Thank you so much for the great review! I hope your heart isn't too "smathered"! I haven't looked up your stories yet, but I plan to. I'm always in the market for good angsty Sam stories!  
  
Sam: I really do feel Sam is coming into his own now. He has other people to think about (Hertig, his gaffer, Rosie, the Cottons) and needs to be strong for them.  
  
Bronwyn: Sam somehow always manages to find help when he needs it, although in this chapter, he provides some timely assistance!  
  
Gamgeefest: At one point, I had the time all carefully worked out, but I must confess, I have grown somewhat lax! In my mind, it is early summer and if I recall, Saruman shows up in September and as you said, the others around the end of October. I don't think I will do a day by day description though! The story isn't going to be THAT long! LOL! As for Jolly, I figured he spotted Sam one day while going about some business and waited for the opportune moment to approach him.  
  
Althea: Although not in this chapter, we will be looking into what's going on with some of the others in the near future. I really haven't decided whether or not to bring Frodo and the others home earlier than they are supposed to arrive. After all, they assume Sam is safe and sound in the Shire. Even if Frodo is eager to clear things up with him, I'm still not sure that will bring him home significantly earlier (seems like if they came home early, then they might miss Saruman and he wouldn't come to the Shire and it would create a whole chain reaction that would fundamentally change the last part of Tolkien's story. I often think of my stories as side trips that don't necessarily change the outcome of the original story.)

Chapter 18 Out of the Frying Pan  
  
Sam lay in the shack again, nursing his wounds. "If that Pimple wants his gardens done," grumbled Sam to himself trying to find some position that didn't cause him pain, "Then he'd better tell that villain, Fig, to lay off of me!" It was useless. Many of the welts had broken the skin and whenever he moved, they would start bleeding again. He was covered with bruises and ached all over. Plus, he was weak from hunger. The small amount of bread Jolly had given him earlier certainly didn't go far. Sam laid his head on his knees fighting back tears of anger and frustration. He thought of Mr. Frodo and how appalled he would be to find the Shire in such ruins. "Ah, Mister Frodo," he sighed, "We thought we'd fought our battles and comin' home would be an end to all the unhappiness. How wrong we were! If only I could get word to you somehow. Maybe you could bring help and throw these ruffians out!" He dozed a little then, but his dreams were full of whips and curses mixed with Frodo smiling at him one moment and ordering him to leave the next. Abruptly, he started awake, his heart pounding. It took him a moment to realize what had woken in. It was a soft voice calling his name. Blinking in the darkness, Sam peered around until he could just make out the ghostly image of a hand waving to him through a gap between the boards. Sam crawled closer. "Who's there?" he whispered, "Jolly?"  
  
"Aye! It's me, Sam," came the urgent reply. "We brought ye some food!" The hand disappeared and several thin packages were pushed through the narrow opening. Sam groped for them in the dark, quickly clutching the precious parcels to his chest. He was reaching for the last one, when another soft voice called to him.  
  
"Sam? Can you hear me? It's me, Rosie!" Sam froze for just a moment, then felt the blood rushing to his face. He had often thought of her sweet voice and lovely face on his long journey. He had hoped to speak to Rosie's father upon their return, but this was certainly not the reunion he had imagined.  
  
"Rosie?" he replied crawling closer to the opening. He could just make out her pale face hovering nearby. "You shouldn't be here, Rosie!" he cried urgently. "Fig is out front and if he should catch you...." He trailed off. He couldn't bear the thought of Rosie being struck by that wretch's whip or worse yet, hanging from a tree.  
  
"Don't worry, Sam!" she whispered back, "We'll be careful. But we'll be burned if we'll let them starve you to death! Jolly told us what the Chief said about putting your dad into the lockholes. We're goin' to figure out someway to get him to safety so we can rescue you! Don't lose heart!" With those last quiet words, Jolly and Rosie were gone.  
  
Sam sat back and leaned cautiously leaned against the wall of the shed. He wiped away his tears as he thought about his friends, risking themselves to bring him food. He smiled as he considered Rosie's bravery. Yes, she was quite a girl alright!  
  
Day after dreary day Sam slaved away in the gardens. He might have resigned himself to his duties if they had left him peace, but Fig delighted in tormenting Sam. He frequently beat him for the slightest infraction. Many times he claimed Sam's work had been done poorly or incorrectly and he made Sam pull out all the plants he had worked so hard to get started and begin all over again. Nothing he did was right and Sam seethed with resentment. The only thing that kept him going were the nighttime visits by Rosie and one or another of her brothers. Fig frequently drank himself into a stupor during the long, dull evenings and that provided the perfect opportunity for the Cottons to bring food to him. If it hadn't been for that, the meager rations provided by Lotho would have been barely enough to keep Sam alive. As it was, he was thinner than ever and exhausted in both body and soul.  
  
Sam worried constantly. He had only been able to catch occasional glimpses of his gaffer. Fig made sure to keep them apart. The old hobbit didn't look well to Sam. He also worried about Rosie and the Cottons getting in trouble for helping him, but he knew he couldn't survive without them. And where was Hertig? Jolly said they had not heard anything about the Rider and it was difficult at best to get any news from outside Hobbiton. He could be dead for all Sam knew. Then of course, he worried about Frodo. He constantly wondered what he was doing and was he happier now that Sam was gone. Sam still carried that pain in his heart. He felt very much alone.  
  
Things might have gone on like that indefinitely if not for one fateful afternoon. Sam was trying to clear the rubble Lotho had had dumped into one end of the garden and it was exhausting work. Sam piled large jagged stones and old pieces of the wood into his barrow and wheeled them down to where Bagshot Row had been. It was now being used as a gravel quarry but Sam felt it worked just as well as a dump. Time and time again he made the grueling journey up and down the hill.  
  
He was on his way back from his latest trip when he was startled by a scream. Looking up towards Bag End, he saw Fig and Ted Sandyman the miller standing by some of the sheds farthest from Bag End. It was obvious that they were confronting someone, but Sam's view was blocked by the two figures. Sam heard the scream again followed by the cruel laughter of the men. With a flash of horror, Sam realized it was Rosie's desperate cries he'd heard! Without a thought, he dropped the barrow and started sprinting up the hill to where the two had cornered the girl against the wall of one of the sheds.  
  
"Come on, Rosie," Ted said, a lecherous tone in his wheedling voice, "Give us a kiss!" He lurched forward trying to grab hold of Rosie. The girl quickly sidled away.  
  
"Leave me be, Ted Sandyman!" Rosie cried, trying to push her way past the two bullies, but Fig grabbed her arms and held her tight.  
  
"Have at 'er, Ted me lad," he leered drunkenly, "She's a right pretty little morsel. Might try 'er meself when you're done with her!" Rosie screamed again as the men moved to pull her into the shack.  
  
"NO!" roared Sam furiously, his shovel now in his hand. Ted wheeled around just in time to see Sam swing the shovel with all his strength into Fig's back. With a howl of pain and surprise, the man lost his hold Rosie and stumbled to his knees. With another cry of rage, Sam slammed the shovel onto Fig's head, dropping him like a stone. Twice more Sam struck the man until Rosie screamed at him to stop. Panting, Sam stood dripping sweat, his eyes still wild.  
  
"You've killed him!" gasped Ted in shock staring at the bloody figure sprawled on the ground before him. "You've killed him right enough, Samwise Gamgee! The Chief'll 'ave your head for this!" Sam turned towards Ted and with a menacing growl began advancing on the miller. With a yelp of fear, Ted turned and scurried from the shed to raise the alarm.  
  
"Sam!" cried Rosie desperately grabbing onto his arm, "You must get out of here right away! They'll hang you for this! Fig was one of Pimple's favorites!"  
  
Sam now just stood there staring dumbly at the body at his feet. How could he have done such a thing? He'd killed a man! Dimly, he became aware of Rosie tugging on his arm. He blinked and with growing alarm realized the enormity of what he had done. This would certainly mean his death and possibly his gaffer's as well!  
  
"Come ON, Sam!" Rosie cried again pulling harder.  
  
This time Sam turned to face her, grabbing onto her soft hands. "Rosie, please don't let them hurt my gaffer!" he pleaded urgently. "I've got to go, but please, don't let them hurt him!"  
  
"I won't, Sam," she sobbed. "We'll look after him for you!" Sam smiled his thanks, stared at her for a moment more then pulled her to him and kissed her. An instant later, he was gone. Rosie stared after him for just a few seconds, then ran off herself, knowing they must quickly hide Hamfast Gamgee before the Chief's men got to him.  
  
Sam ran as fast as he could, panic lending speed to his weary feet. He still couldn't believe he had actually killed Fig, although there was no doubt in his mind that the scum deserved it. How dare he and that despicable Ted Sandyman lay a hand on Rosie! But now, he was in serious trouble. Where could he go? If any of the Chief's men or the Shirriffs caught him, he would be hung without a doubt. Sam was certain that killing one of the ruffians was not a crime to be punished lightly.  
  
He headed north. His first thought had been to try for Tookland, but he had heard Fig and the other men talking about the troubles the Tooks had caused and now a large number of men surrounded the Thain's land. Sam would be safe in the Green Hill country, but the chances of making it there alive were slim. He wanted to try for Michel Delving at some point to look for Hertig, but for the moment, he just needed to get himself out of harm's way. He fervently hoped that his gaffer and the Cottons would be alright. He couldn't bear to be the cause of anymore suffering. It was obvious that Sam had now jumped out of the frying pan and into the fire. 


	19. In the Lockholes

Author's Note: I must apologize for the delay in getting this chapter up. Between a severe allergy attack and the fact our computer was infected by a virus and we had to wipe the hard drive, I wasn't able to do much on this story. Anyway, this chapter is sort of one of those filler chapters, but does bring us up to date on one of our missing characters! It won't be as long before the next update, I promise!  
  
Thanks so much to all of you for reading and reviewing. You guys are great!  
  
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Hobbity: Well, Sam has killed orcs, but that's not quite the same! I think it all just got to be too much for Sam and after Fig started mistreating Rosie, Sam just snapped!  
  
Bronwyn: I agree. Ted is also a scumbag! Maybe somebody should knock him in the head with a shovel too!  
  
Szhismine: Sorry, but you'll have to wait a little longer to find out what happens to Sam, but at least old Fig got what he deserved!  
  
Rabidsamfan: Welcome back! I hope your move went well (I hate moving!). There is still lots more to come in the misadventures of Samwise Gamgee! I hope you aren't disappointed!  
  
Laurajslr: There is lots of worrying contained in this story! LOL! But, isn't that what makes them fun? What WILL happen to our favorite characters!? Rosie is safe...at the moment!  
  
LalaithoftheBruinen: Sorry I couldn't get this updated any quicker (I do try to be prompt!), but I hope you enjoy this chapter! Thanks so much for your review!  
  
FrodoBaggins87: Yes, Sam is free at the moment. But in the future? Hmm. Who knows!? As for meeting up with Frodo and the others, he will meet them at some time or another! However, we will be checking in on our other intrepid hobbits very soon.  
  
Gamgeefest: I think Sam saw an opportunity and thinking this might be the last time he sees Rosie, he took it! Sam is always in trouble in these stories and he isn't out of the woods yet!  
  
Elijahshobbitgal: Thank you so much for the kind words! I'm really glad you're enjoying my story. It's been fun to write and even more fun with wonderful reviewers like yourself! I hope you continue to enjoy this tale of woe.  
  
Althea: Sam always has lots of people to worry about. He's just that kinda guy. His sensitive nature is what made Frodo's "rejection" so hard for Sam to bear and why we all love him!  
  
Sam: I'm flattered that you check this story so often! Sorry for the delay in getting this chapter up. Such is life! I wanted Sam to have someone in the Shire to care about and who better than Rosie?  
  
Janna Hawkins: Thank you so much for posting a review! Each and every one means a lot to me. As for Sam, he has always been my very favorite as well!  
  
Arwen Greenleaf: Thank you for taking time to review. Believe me, I understand about time crunches! Sometimes, I barely have time to read a story much less review, but I really appreciate you reading when you can!  
  
Renaissance Grrl: Here is the latest update! Poor Sam really does have more than his fair share of suffering!  
  
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Chapter 19 In the Lockholes  
  
When Hertig finally awoke, his first terrified thought was he had been buried alive. He was lying on his stomach with the cold smell of dirt filling his nostrils It was very dark. He moved his head to the side and instantly regretted it. With a low moan of pain, he reached up to the back of his aching head. He could feel his hair encrusted with dried blood, but there also seemed to be a makeshift bandage wrapped around his head. He started to push himself up when a soft voice said, "I wouldn't try that if I were you, master soldier." Hertig froze and tried to locate the speaker. It didn't sound like Sam. A figure, just barely visible in the darkness moved closer to Hertig. He gently lifted the Rider's head and gave him some water. Hertig drank gratefully. "How do you feel, sir?" the voice asked again.  
  
"I have certainly felt better," rasped Hertig ruefully fingering the bandage around his head. "What is this place? Who are you?"  
  
The voice sighed. "I am the mayor of Hobbiton. Will Whitfoot is my name. And this place? This is one of the Lotho Sackville-Baggins deluxe accommodations, also known as the Lockholes. His ruffians put anyone ol' Pimple doesn't want around in the Lockholes where they are promptly forgotten. And, who might you be sir, if I may be so bold as to ask?"  
  
Hertig carefully rolled over to his side and took a deep breath waiting for the pain in his head to ease a bit. "My name is Hertig," he replied softly. "I am one of the Rohirrim from the plains of Rohan. I accompanied my friend, Samwise Gamgee here from my city of Edoras. I was supposed to see him safe and sound to his home but I am afraid I have failed in this." He paused for a moment. "I do not suppose you have heard anything of Sam's fate? Is he here with us?"  
  
"Samwise Gamgee was with you?" asked Mayor Whitfoot in surprise. "What about the others? Frodo Baggins, Merry Brandybuck, and Pippin Took? Were they with you as well?  
  
"No," replied Hertig, "It is a very long story, but they remained behind in Minas Tirith. I do not know if they remain there still or if they are now on their way here."  
  
The Mayor sighed. "Well, I'm certainly glad to hear that they are all still alive! If Frodo returns, I hope he brings some reinforcements! That Lotho Sackville-Baggins has made a right mess of the Shire! As for Sam, I'm afraid I haven't heard a word about him. So, he probably isn't here in the Lockholes at any rate."  
  
Hertig lay quietly for awhile thinking about all that had happened. "How long have I been here?" he asked.  
  
"Just a day or two," came the reply. "I thought at first you were dead, but what point would there be in locking up a dead man? You had a nasty head wound and I fixed it up as best I could. I don't know how long you were out before that, though. Where did they catch you?"  
  
It took Hertig a moment to come up with the name. His thinking seemed rather muddled. "Sarn Ford," he said finally. "Sam and I were looking for a place to cross the river and avoid the guards at the ford. We crossed safely enough, but then were ambushed. That is all I remember. I hope Sam was not killed!"  
  
"They might have taken him to Bag End," replied Mayor Whitfoot thoughtfully. "I believe Lotho would like nothing better than to humiliate any friends of Frodo's. Probably has old Sam repairing that mess those ruffians made of the gardens."  
  
Hertig sighed. Sam had certainly been right to worry about bad things happening in the Shire. They had barely made it across the border and he, a reknowned Rider of the Mark was ambushed and imprisoned! And what of Sam and the horses? If Manelys could break free, he would head back to Rohan and perhaps that would bring help. Manelys was a very intelligent creature. However, Hertig could not depend on that. He had to get out of these "lockholes" and find Sam. If anything happened to the faithful gardener, Hertig would never forgive himself. He didn't think his family would either!  
  
"Has anyone ever escaped from these Lockholes?" asked Hertig as he considered the situation.  
  
"Not that I know of," the Mayor replied quickly. "There are both men and hobbits guarding the Lockholes. The men would just as soon knock you over the head as look at you, but some of the hobbits will smuggle messages out or bring you extra food or notes from the outside. Not everyone works for Lotho voluntarily. It is very dangerous, though. Is there someone you know that can help us?"  
  
"I don't know. If I knew where my horse was, he would return to Edoras for help if sent. But, I must find Samwise. I promised to protect him and I must fulfill my pledge. He is a hero."  
  
"A hero?" laughed Mayor Whitfoot in disbelief. "Samwise Gamgee? Granted, he's a likeable enough lad and a fine gardener, but a hero? I hardly think so! I can't imagine him doing anything more dangerous than walking home from the Green Dragon in the dark after having an ale or two too many! Are you sure we're talking about the same person?"  
  
Hertig shook his head in the darkness. How provincial these hobbits were. So isolated from the rest of the world. They had no idea how close they had been to total destruction! Yes, there were indeed problems here now, but they were minor compared to what would have happened to them if Sauron had emerged victorious. "Master Whitfoot," began Hertig, "Because of Samwise Gamgee and Frodo Baggins, all of Middle Earth was saved from destruction by the Dark Lord Sauron. Together, they carried the One Ring of power all the way from the Shire to the slopes of Mt. Doom in the heart of Mordor. The destruction of that ring was the only possible way to destroy the Dark Lord and they did it, barely emerging with their lives. I know you may think of Sam as nothing more than a simple gardener, but the rest of Middle Earth hails him and his master as two of the greatest heroes of Middle Earth."  
  
Mayor Whitfoot was silent at that. "Well," he finally exclaimed in amazement, "Who would have thought it! And Merry and Pippin? Were they involved in this as well?"  
  
"They did not go with the Ring bearers into Mordor, but fought most bravely on the fields of Pelannor," replied Hertig solemnly "Master Merry rode with the Rohirrim and he and the king's niece, Eowyn, destroyed the greatest of Sauron's servants, the Witch-King of Angmar. Master Pippin was made a Knight of Gondor and saved the life of the steward's son, Lord Faramir. Both have been much honored for their meritorious service in the battle against Lord Sauron. Your country should be very proud of its sons."  
  
"Well, well, well," said the Mayor again completely taken aback by this news, "I know the Thain, uh, Pippin's father, will be most pleased to hear that! As will the Brandybucks. Young Merry and Pippin were far better known for their pranks and drinking abilities than fighting! We could certainly use some of that fighting ability now!"  
  
"What exactly is the situation here in the Shire?" asked Hertig, trying to get a feel for what was going on. If he did manage to escape, he wanted to know as much as possible about the situation on the outside. He was a stranger to the Shire and any information he could gather could be very important.  
  
The Mayor sighed. "After Frodo sold his home, Bag End, to that horrid Lotho Sackville-Baggins, everything went wrong. Lotho began buying up as much property as he could and bringin' in those rough fellows that you met up with. He declared himself the "Chief Shirriff" and with his ruffians backing him up, has taken over the runnin' of the Shire. His men go out and take pretty much whatever they want and Lotho sends it south to sell. Anyone that complains finds himself here in the Lockholes. The Tooks, Pippin's kin, tried to fight back, but Lotho just brought in more men and now the Thain and his men are pretty much bottled up." Mayor Whitfoot was silent for a few moments. "I realize you've been part of some mighty important battles and such, sir," he said, "And you must think us hobbits silly for letting ourselves be taken over in such a way, but we are not warriors here. We are peaceful people and not given to violence. If not fighting back will keep the peace, most of us will follow that path. Unfortunately, things have just gotten more and more out of hand and now few are capable of even thinking about resistance. I'm afraid things will get much worse for us all if we cannot find a way to fight back."  
  
Hertig stared into the darkness. He was determined to find a way out these holes and when he did, he make those so-called ruffians rue the day they took on a Rider of the Mark! 


	20. The Brockenbores

As promised, I managed to get the next chapter out more quickly! For those who are wondering, we will check in with Frodo in the next chapter. Thank you again so much for reading and reviewing!  
  
Note to Gamgeefest: I realized my error with Mayor Whitfoot's title after I had posted the story and I was looking back at my original document. I debated about taking it off and fixing it, but decided to leave it. I figured if someone didn't point it out, then I would put a correction at the beginning of this chapter! Anyway, thanks for catching it!  
  
Chapter 20 The Brockenbores  
  
Sam continued running as long as his legs would carry him. He knew the countryside around Hobbiton like the back of his hand and hoped to make his way into the hills of Scary. There were many places to hide up there in the old holes of the Brockenbores and the area was away from the major roads. He hoped he could make it safely and then decide what to do from there.  
  
When darkness finally settled over the land, Sam was still some distance from the hills, but had managed to find a copse of trees that provided some cover. He collapsed onto the ground wiping the sweat from his face. He was exhausted and parched. He had no idea how far he had run, but hoped it was sufficient to give him time to catch his breath. "Samwise Gamgee," he scolded himself, "You have gone and done it now. It was bad enough you were Lotho's slave, but now you're a murderer to boot!" He buried his face in his hands. Sam was a gentle soul and killing did not come naturally to him. Yes, he had killed some orcs when the need arose, but they were hardly what one would call "human" and it was most definitely a case of self-defense. But, killing Fig was nothing more than cold blooded murder. If they caught him, he'd be lucky for a quick death.  
  
"What am I to do now?" he thought miserably. He prayed that Rosie and his Gaffer were safe. If Lotho and his thugs got their hands on them, Sam had no doubt they would pay the price for Sam's rash behavior. He leaned back against the tree and considered his position. Continuing north made the most sense. Leaving the Shire made even more sense, but Sam certainly couldn't leave while Hertig's whereabouts were still unknown, plus he had to make sure Rosie and the Gaffer were out of harm's way. The more he thought about the situation in the Shire, the angrier he grew. Surely there was something he could do to get back at these ruffians? If he could get out of the Shire, he might be able to go for help. But from whom? Rivendell and Rohan were much too far. And what of Frodo and the others? They would be walking into all of this mess without any warning! All this thinking made poor Sam's head swim. He couldn't be responsible for everyone!  
  
"All right, Sam" he said aloud, "You've just got to get far enough away for now to be shed of those ruffians. Then you can decide what to do after that! Now is not the time to try and make decisions!" He rested for awhile longer, then wearily climbed to his feet. The hills of Scary were still many miles away.  
  
He walked all night and when morning came, he could just make out the hills and forest in the distance. He knew there were a few small villages in the area and decided it might be best to avoid them as he didn't know who was friend and who was foe. Plus, there might be Shiriffs in the villages that would be duty-bound to turn him in. Until he knew what was what, Sam would keep to himself. It was predominately open land between here and the hills and he decided it might be best if he found someplace to spend the daylight hours to rest. Then, he could travel under the cover of darkness.  
  
He found a shallow gully with overhanging rocks, the remains of an old stream bed. He had managed to find a small brook during the night, but again was desperately thirsty. Sighing, he burrowed under brush surrounding the rocky overhang and into the cool space beneath, quickly falling into an exhausted, troubled sleep.  
  
How long Sam slept, he could not tell, but he was abruptly wakened by the sound of loud voices. He froze, barely breathing, as the voices seemed to get closer and closer. With horror, Sam suddenly realized they were standing just above him on the rocky outcrop! Soon, he could make out every word and they were not comforting.  
  
"So," the first voice was saying, "Some little shire-rat got uppity and killed Fig, eh? Who woulda thought any of 'em would have the gumption for somethin' like that!"  
  
"Aye," growled the second, "But we're to find the wretch and bring 'im in alive. The Chief wants to make an example of this one. We can't have these halflings think they can go around killin' decent folk whenever the notion takes 'em!"  
  
"You're right there, Ted," agreed the other, "But if it were left up to me, I'd hang the little rat the minute we lays hand on 'im!"  
  
Ted laughed harshly, "Oh, I think hangin's too quick a death for the likes o' this one. I can think of far more satisfyin' ways to kill him. Slower, too!"  
  
His companion laughed as well and Sam could tell they were moving away as their voices became more distant. Releasing his breath, he slowly relaxed. It was worse than he had thought. The men were already searching in this area. Sam wondered how many there were. He had hoped they wouldn't make this far north yet. Well, he would just have to be extra careful.  
  
Sleep was impossible after that. Every little noise convinced Sam that the men were upon him. Several parties did go through during the day, but none noticed the little hideaway under the rock.  
  
Finally, when evening came, Sam ventured out from his refuge and carefully looked about. There was no one to be seen. With a sigh of relief, Sam climbed to his feet and began briskly hiking towards the hills to the north. Around the hills of Scary were a series of old hobbit holes and small natural caves known as the Brockenbores. The nearby village and many of the inhabitants were known as Brockenborings. Sam knew a few of the Brockenboring family, but not well enough to trust his life to them. Sam was hoping to find someplace to hole up in the old burrows.  
  
Exhausted and discouraged as he was, Sam made good time that night. Occasional streams assuaged his thirst and he managed to steal some produce from the gardens of isolated farms he passed; enough to keep him going at any rate. As dawn's golden rays began to break over the horizon, Sam found himself just on the edge of the Brockenbores. They were low-lying hills leading up to the higher hills of Scary, and although now covered with forests, Sam could just make out a few of the larger holes in the sides of the hills. He knew from his explorations as a boy, many of these holes were connected through a labyrinth of tunnels; a perfect hiding spot for a hunted hobbit.  
  
He began the weary climb up the side of one of the nearest hills. All he wanted to do now was collapse and sleep. He vaguely wondered if his life would ever get back to normal. He had almost reached one of the openings when a voice quietly sounded behind him. "Stop right there," it said in a low but ominous tone.  
  
Sam quickly whirled around, ready to defend himself, but froze when he came face to face with several grim-faced hobbits. All were armed with clubs and one or two carried bows as well. The hobbits studied Sam impassively. They were a thin, haggard lot, clothed in dark, ragged clothing. All had the same fierce, determined looks on their faces. Finally, the tallest one spoke again. "Who are you and what are you doing poking around our land?"  
  
Sam swallowed nervously. These hobbits didn't look like Shirriffs to him and he wondered if he dared trust them. "I..I'm Samwise Gamgee," he said finally, "And I'm looking for shelter."  
  
One of the hobbits looked surprised and leaned over to whisper something in the other's ear. The tall hobbit blinked then looked at Sam more closely. "Samwise Gamgee? From Hobbiton?" Sam nodded. The first hobbit glanced over at his companions. "Aren't you the one they're lookin' for? For killing some lout in Hobbiton a couple o' days ago?"  
  
Again, Sam looked at the others apprehensively but then nodded. "Aye, that was me." Then, in a fierce tone, "But, he had it comin'!"  
  
For the first time, the other hobbits broke into grins. The tallest one even laughed, then clapping Sam on the shoulder said, "Brother Gamgee, you are just the kind of recruit we're looking for! Come along with us and will get you some food and a dry place to bed down for the night. Then, we'll explain our little organization to you!"  
  
Dazed by this sudden turn of events, Sam allowed himself to led into the opening into the hillside and then through a winding maze of dark passageways. Two of the hobbits had lit torches but Sam still wondered how they knew where they were going. He had long ago lost any sense of direction. Finally, they reached a large, well-lit chamber with several more hobbits gathered around a small fire. These turned to watch the newcomers when one abruptly stood up and cried, "Sam!?"  
  
Sam turned his attention to the hobbit hurrying towards them and saw with amazement that it was old Fredegar Bolger, the friend he and the others had left behind to keep an eye on Crickhollow! "Fatty!?"  
  
Fredegar halted in front of Sam and the others. "I haven't been called Fatty in a long while!" he laughed looking down at his much thinner form. "Living in the wild will do that to a body!" He looked fondly at Sam then grew serious. "Welcome to our little band of rebels, Sam," he said placing a hand of Sam's shoulder.  
  
"Rebels?" repeated Sam in confusion looking around at the others. "You mean, you're fighting against Lotho and his bunch?"  
  
"That's right," said the tall hobbit proudly. "I am Largo Brockenboring. Several of my kin as well as others from the area have formed a small group to do what we may against the ruffians."  
  
"We've raided some of their stores," continued Fredegar leading Sam towards the fire. "And helped farmers hide their livestock and so on from those thieves. There are only about 10 of us, but we do what we can to harass the enemy!"  
  
Sam sat down beside his friend as he mulled this over. "I heard the Tooks put up a fight, but I hadn't heard that there were any others fighting back."  
  
"Well," replied Largo ruefully, handing Sam a bowl of stew, "We have been hiding up here in the Brockenbores longer than we have been fighting. The Pimple wanted to force several us to become Shirriffs and we wanted no part of that! So, it was either go into hiding or go into the Lockholes. It was Fredegar here who had the idea of fighting back."  
  
Sam shook his head in wonderment, then turned his attention to the stew. It had been so long since he had eaten a decent meal and it wasn't long before the bowl was empty.  
  
Fredegar had remained silent until Sam had finished, then hesitantly asked, "Are Frodo and the others...are they..." He couldn't finish the question, fearing what the answer would be.  
  
Sam stared into the fire for a moment, then sighed. "Mr. Frodo, Merry and Pippin were all well when last I saw them," he replied reassuringly. "I, uh, just came home early." Fredegar regarded him with a puzzled frown. Sam sighed again and began telling the story of what had happened to them since leaving Crickhollow so many months ago. The other hobbits had all gathered round, listening intently. Some exchanged glances suggesting that they thought perhaps much of this tale was the result of too many long nights with an ale bottle, but Fredegar had seen the Black Riders and had no doubt Sam spoke the truth.  
  
"That's certainly one for the books!" exclaimed Fredegar at the end. "Orcs and wizards and elves! Something interesting always seems to happen when there's a Baggins around!" The others laughed at this, all well aware of the Baggins unusual history. It would now appear that Frodo Baggins had surpassed even Bilbo's outlandish adventures. However, Fredegar had shrewedly realized that Sam had said little of why he was here and the others were still far away in some city in Gondor (wherever _that_ was), but he decided not to press the issue. It was clear by his appearance that Sam had been through some very rough times.  
  
"So, that brings us to how you got here," said Largo thoughtfully. "You say you killed Lotho's man, Fig?"  
  
Sam nodded. "He and that villain, Ted Sandyman were layin' hands on Miss Rosie Cotton and I just wouldn't stand for that! But, now I'm worried Lotho might take it out on my Gaffer or maybe even Rosie herself!"  
  
"We have friends in Hobbiton," said Largo brushing some dirt off his sleeve. "I'll see what I can find out. Frankly, you did all of us a favor by killing that Fig. He was one of the worst! Of course, that made him one of Pimple's favorites. I doubt they'll stop searching til they find you."  
  
"Maybe, I should go then," said Sam reluctantly. "I don't want to cause any of you any trouble!"  
  
Again, the others all laughed. "Sam!" cried Fredegar clapping his friend on the shoulder, "Don't you understand? We're _all _wanted! Maybe we haven't done anything quite as dramatic as killing one of those devils, but we're wanted just the same. You, my dear hobbit, are a celebrity among us and we welcome you with open arms!"  
  
The others agreed heartily, all shaking Sam's hand or clapping him on the shoulder. They all seemed delighted to have him and it was at that moment that Sam's life as a rebel had begun. 


	21. A Friend Indeed

Well guys, here is the next chapter as promised. It may be a little different than you expect, though! Thanks for reading and reviewing!

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Frodo Freak2: Welcome back! Yum! I like brownies! Got any with nuts?  
  
Merimas Gamgee: I like to try and include little used characters sometimes. I decided Fatty Bolger needed some more airtime!  
  
Hobbity: Thank you so much for nice compliments! I try! I rather liked the idea of Sam getting to do something proactive for a change, rather than having to endure whatever comes his way! I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint you.  
  
Janna Hawkins: SHHHHHH! Not so loud! Sam doesn't know that!  
  
Laurajslr: Here is a bit of an update on Frodo and friends. I wanted poor Sam to have some friends for a change – people to help him instead of hurt him! LOL! But, the life of a rebel isn't an easy one!  
  
FrodoBaggins87: Glad I was able to surprise you! I sometimes worry my stories are too predictable. Hope you will continue to enjoy it!  
  
Rabidsamfam: I try to update as regularly as I can. I hate it when I start a really good story and the author never finishes it or it's like 6 months between updates! Anyway, Sam still has his work cut out for him as a newly minted rebel!  
  
A person: Thank you so much for reviewing! I do agree with you, murder is never right, even if the person deserves it. Sam feels very guilty about it so can be somewhat defensive. The others in the band see Fig's death as one less enemy they have to fight, still doesn't make it right, but at least somewhat understandable.  
  
Gamgeefest: Yep, Sam has allies, but as you can imagine, the life of a rebel isn't necessarily easy with Lotho and his thugs around, and will be even less so when Saruman arrives!  
  
Sam: Cleaning, eh? Umm, if you're not busy, our house could certainly use some serious help! No? Oh well. Hope it's a great wedding! Glad my story has provided you with some distraction!  
  
Bronwyn: Well, this chapter will tell you what the others are up to and I think your wish will be granted!  
  
Ronzgirlz: I am really honored that you guys think so well of my stories. That means more to me than you realize. I am also a big fan of HP and have read a fair amount of fanfic (although not in awhile). Both Tolkien and Rowling are wonderful writers and there is no reason we can't love both sets of stories! Thanks again for your wonderful comments!  
  
Althea: Sometimes, I think Sam needs some positive things in his life! He tends to do a lot of suffering in my stories, so I felt he deserved something a little better!  
  
LalaithoftheBruinen: Thank you so much for your kind words! I hope you enjoy this chapter as well!

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Chapter 21 A Friend Indeed  
  
The days and weeks following the wedding of Aragorn and Arwen seemed to drag by for Frodo Baggins. After the initial shock of discovering the cause of Sam's emotional breakdown and learning he was on his way home to the Shire, Frodo had been beside himself with worry. He desperately wanted to mount an expedition and head home to the Shire immediately, but Merry convinced him they needed to stay for King Theoden's funeral. Reluctantly, Frodo agreed. He knew it was only right and as the others kept reassuring him, Sam must now be safe and sound back in Hobbiton.  
  
"He's probably at the Green Dragon right now," said Pippin one evening as Frodo chafed at the unavoidable delay. "We'll be lucky if there's any ale left by the time we get home!"  
  
"That's right," agreed Merry with a grin, "And goodness knows what kinds of wild tales he's tellin' in hopes of impressing the lovely Miss Rosie Cotton!" Frodo had to smile at that. The last person to brag on himself would be Samwise Gamgee!  
  
"I know you're right," Frodo sighed looking out the window, "But I can't help but worry. You know how bad off Sam was when we last saw him. He still believes I wish him gone. Every time I think of that, I wish I could take back every word! I know I didn't mean him when I said those things, but I'd rather cut out my tongue then utter a single word that might hurt Sam." He shook his head, blinking away the tears threatening to fall.  
  
"Frodo," said Merry standing in front of his cousin, hands on his hips, "Sam is fine. He is home safe and sound. A Rider even went with him to make sure! We'll be leaving for Rohan in a few days and when we get to Edoras, you can talk to that woman that took care of him. Maybe she can help set your mind at ease!"  
  
Frodo brightened a little at that thought. "I hadn't thought of that," he said nodding. "Yes, that is a wonderful idea. Is that Rider that brought the message still here?"  
  
"Torvag?" asked Merry. "Yes, he returned with the escort for King Theoden's body."  
  
"Good," said Frodo, "Since he is that woman's brother, he should be able to guide us to her house. Perhaps her husband has returned from escorting Sam to the Shire and can tell us more! Surely he should be back by now."  
  
Torvag was quickly found and readily agreed to lead them to his sister's home in Edoras. "Hertig had not returned by the time we left for Minas Tirith," he informed them, "But he may be back by now. It is a long way to the Shire from Rohan and Hertig may have decided to spend some time with your friend before returning."  
  
Frodo just nodded still feeling anxious, but was somewhat relieved to have some plan of action.  
  
The day of departure finally arrived and Frodo rode beside Aragorn and Gandalf as the Theoden's remains were escorted north to Edoras. Merry, as was fitting, rode with the body of the king and Pippin, with the knights of Gondor. Frodo felt very alone without Sam by his side. The others all had had their parts to play and companions to share their battles. Frodo had had only Sam and Gollum and now both were gone; Gollum into the fiery depths of Mt. Doom, and Sam home in the Shire. Being the Ringbearer had isolated Frodo in many ways, but he always felt a little less alone with Sam. He prayed Sam would understand.  
  
The company remained in Edoras for a few days before beginning the journey west. It was time for everyone to depart to their homes. It was during this period of preparation that Frodo sought out Helveg. Torvag led him through the streets of Edoras to the neat, thatched cottage deep in the city.  
  
Torvag and Frodo stood outside the cottage door waiting a response to their knock when a small voice was heard behind them. "Sam!" Frodo whirled around just in time to be bowled over by a small, blond haired boy. "Sam!" the boy cried again, but then froze when he finally saw Frodo's face. The boy's face went white in shock, then flushed with embarrassment. "I..I am sorry, sir!" the boy mumbled scrambling to his feet. "I thought you were Sam."  
  
Laughing, Torvag reached down and helped Frodo to his feet. "No, Eldred!" the man grinned, "This is Sam's friend, Master Baggins."  
  
Eldred's face brightened with excitement. "Mister Frodo!? The Ringbearer? Sam told us all about you!"  
  
"Did he?" smiled Frodo, "Nothing bad I hope!"  
  
"Oh, no," replied Eldred solemnly. "He thought you were the best and bravest person in the whole world!"  
  
Now Frodo felt his face grow warm and tears start in his eyes. He blinked them away and looked up as the cottage door opened. A slender woman stood before then with a small, blue-eyed girl staring at them from behind her mother's skirt. The girl's eyes went wide as she spied Frodo.  
  
"Olwyn!" cried Eldred excitedly, "It's Mister Frodo! Sam's friend!" Olwyn's eyes grew even rounder as she regarded Frodo shyly.  
  
"Helveg," Torvag said, "This is indeed Frodo Baggins and he wonders if you might spare a moment to speak with him about Samwise Gamgee."  
  
"Hello," said Frodo self-consciously to the woman. "Torvag told me you saved Sam's life and, I, uh wanted to come thank you and perhaps ask you a few questions about him."  
  
Helveg smiled warmly. "Of course, Master Baggins! Please, come in and have some tea! I would gladly speak to you of Sam." She shooed the children out to play with their uncle, then settled Frodo comfortably at the kitchen table, with a steaming mug of tea before him.  
  
Helveg studied Frodo carefully as the hobbit stared down at his mug. She had heard so much about Frodo from Sam that she felt as if she knew him already. She could detect a deep pain in the Ringbearer and she instinctively knew Frodo's life would not be easy. She reached over and took Frodo's hand.  
  
Frodo looked up and smiled faintly, then sighed. "I don't know where to begin," he confessed. "I had so many questions, but now my mind seems empty.'  
  
Helveg gave a small laugh. "Well, let me help you then," she replied. "My husband found Sam by the side of the road and brought him me. Sam was very near death and often delirious. It was during those bouts of delirium that I learned of his belief that you wished him dead. He firmly believed that, Master Baggins, and I feared his grief would be the end of him." She looked at Frodo and saw his eyes closed as if in great pain.  
  
"I did say the things he said I did," Frodo began as he opened his eyes. Helveg's confused frown stopped him for a moment, then he continued. "I did say those things, but not about Sam! I was speaking of Gollum, the unfortunate creature that aided me but who had been all but consumed by the power of the One Ring. It was Gollum I meant when I said I wished he'd stayed in Orodruin, not Sam! Sam means the world to me! I would never say anything to hurt him! It was all a terrible misunderstanding!"  
  
There were tears in Helveg's eyes as she nodded sadly. How much grief had been caused by that simple misunderstanding. It had very nearly caused Sam his life.  
  
"Now," said Frodo determinedly, "I must get to the Shire as soon as possible and set things right with Sam. I cannot bear him thinking I hate him one minute longer!"  
  
Helveg bit her lip then shook her head. "No, Master Baggins," she said slowly, "I do not believe that is what you should do at all."  
  
Frodo stared at her in confusion. "What do you mean?" he demanded quickly, "Do you want Sam to continue to suffer?  
  
"No, no," she replied soothlingly, "That is not what I want at all. But please, hear me out." Helveg looked directly into Frodo's perplexed eyes. "When Sam first awoke during his illness, all he could think of was you. Even during his illness when he was delirious, it was your name he cried out again and again. As I understand it, for almost a year, Sam's entire life has revolved around you; keeping you alive, supporting you in your quest to destroy the Ring of Power, and providing you with love and understanding when all else seemed lost. You were the center of his universe. However, once you were both safe in Minas Tirith, there were others to help you. You were no longer in danger and Sam's devotion to you was no longer quite as crucial. He felt very lost and vulnerable. Then came that cruel woman's treatment of him and your supposed rejection. It was more than Sam could take, so he fled for home. Of course, he never would have made it. But, he certainly was not thinking clearly. He just wanted to escape the pain.  
  
"Frodo, as Sam grew stronger, he began to take an interest in other people around him, especially the children. They adore him and began to fill in some small way, his lost sense of purpose. He then began to worry about his father back in the Shire as well as a young lady, Rosie Cotton. This was all very healthy for him. He was beginning regain his sense of self that did not revolve around you. You must give him time to become stronger."  
  
Frodo frowned, not sure he agreed. Helveg cocked her head to one side as she considered the pale hobbit before her. "Frodo," she said softly, "I am a healer and I can feel in you a deep hurt that I do not believe will ever fully heal. In my heart, I do not believe you will find the peace and healing you crave in the Shire. If you should leave Sam in the future, would it not be better if he were not so dependent on you?"  
  
Frodo looked down at his tea again. He felt so confused. On one hand, he still felt the urgent need to find Sam and clear up the terrible misunderstanding, but on the other, the words of the healer made sense. All throughout the quest, most people had thought of Sam as little more than an extension of Frodo. They rarely seemed to consider him as a separate person with his own hopes and fears. Slowly, Frodo looked up at Helveg. "What do you suggest I do?" he asked hoarsely.  
  
She smiled gently at him. "I suggest you follow Gandalf's original plan. Torvag told me that Gandalf wished to journey to Rivendell and then on towards the Shire with you and your friends. Do you not have an elderly uncle in Imladris?"  
  
Frodo nodded. "My uncle Bilbo. I do wish to see him. He is quite old and I was most disappointed that he was unable to make the journey to Minas Tirith for Aragorn's wedding."  
  
"Then, you must go see him," Helveg declared. "Sam will be waiting in the Shire for you when you and your kin finally return, but do not hurry unnecessarily. Give Sam the time to firmly establish a life independent of you and he will be more than ready to take you back into his heart when you meet him again. He is a kind and gentle soul and will be overjoyed to be reunited with you."  
  
Frodo finally smiled back. "Mistress Helveg," he said quietly, "You are very wise and I will accept your counsel in this. The others frequently assure me that Sam is most certainly safe and well at home in the Shire and that I worry too much. Perhaps they are right., but Sam is so important to me. I would be lost without him."  
  
"I know," replied Helveg, "And you mean the world to him."  
  
Frodo looked down at the table for a moment, then gathered himself and slowly rose to his feet. "Thank you mistress," he said gravely, "I owe you much. I hope someday I can repay you for your kindness." He then turned and disappeared through the door.  
  
Helveg stared after him with sadness in her eyes. Bertah, hobbled in from the next room and carefully lowered herself into a chair as she studied her daughter-in-law. "Did you tell him that Hertig still has not returned," she asked in a low voice.  
  
Helveg shook her head. "No. I saw no reason to worry him further. We have no idea where Hertig is. When the visitors have left, I will ask Torvag to go look for him. Now that the funeral is over, I am sure Eomer will give him permission. In the meantime, we must remain strong."  
  
Bertah simply nodded and grasped Helveg's hand. Both were far more worried than they wanted to admit. Where was Hertig?


	22. A Matter of Pipeweed

Hello all! Wanted to get this chapter out. Summer classes start for me next week and I'm afraid my free time will be significantly decreased soon! So, I'll get out as much as I can before things get too hectic. May not be that many more chapters, but not too sure how long the final story will be! Thank you as always for reading and reviewing. You guys make checking my email such fun!  
  
Sam: Frodo will appear again, have no fear! He certainly hasn't forgotten Sam, nor Sam him.  
  
Hobbity: Unfortunately, everyone assumes that the distant Shire has been untouched by all the unpleasantness of the past year. Little does anyone know that Sam is not sitting happily at the Green Dragon quaffing ale! If they did, well things would certainly be different! But Sam and Frodo will be united...eventually.  
  
FrodoBaggins87: I figured Tolkien covered the journey from Edoras to Rivendell quite nicely and I didn't really need to repeat all that unless it was pertinent to my story (which it isn't!). I have read a few fics that seem to drag on such journeys interminably and you keep thinking, "Come on! What is something going to HAPPEN!?" If events happen on the journey, that's one thing. But in my case, it would have simply been filler and this story is long enough as it is!  
  
Lauralsjr: Maybe I'm the only one that felt others really didn't see Sam without associating him with Frodo. I always thought of him as being shy and retiring around the others and always by Frodo's side, so naturally people began to think of them as a unit. Since Frodo was the Ringbearer and "more important", he would get top billing! Maybe that's why I always liked Sam. He seemed so underappreciated (like in the ROTK movie at the Black Gates – it's all "Frodo, Frodo, Frodo". Does anyone say anything about Sam? Nooooooo! ).  
  
Bronwyn: Helveg certainly meant well and under different circumstances, her advice would make sense! Frodo won't be happy when he finds out what's really been going on!  
  
Bookworm2000: Yeah, Fatty does end up in the lockholes. Hmmm. Do I hear "foreshadowing"!?  
  
Gamgeefest: Yes, we are now in the summer and by the end of this chapter, into September. That's why I wanted to wait to do Frodo's chapter so it would fit better time-wise with what was going on in the Shire.  
  
Arwen Baggins: Thank you for still reading! I hope that means it hasn't gotten boring! I think that as a skilled healer, Helveg can detect the remnants of the Morgul poison in Frodo and because of that, foresees future unhappiness, especially for Sam. That is why she says what she does to Frodo.  
  
Althea: I don't think I can imagine Frodo partying away knowing how Sam feels about him right now. Frodo carries lots of guilt with him and Sam's departure ways heavily upon him. He is still anxious to find him, but thinks Helveg's words ring true, so will wait. Too bad.  
  
LalaithoftheBruinen: Haven't completely decided what will happen to Hertig at this point! I'm afraid you'll just have to wait and see!  
  
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Chapter 22 A Matter of Pipeweed  
  
The summer was unlike any previous summer of Samwise Gamgee's relatively short life. He had quickly settled into life with the members of Fredegar's little band of rebels. His experience on the Quest stood him in good stead. He was used to living rough and being hunted. It was not pleasant, but his companions were genial and loyal and they all got on well. In fact, as time went on and Sam proved himself over and over, many began to look to him for leadership and guidance when planning their missions.  
  
For the most part, the rebels avoided direct confrontations with the ruffians. Most of their efforts involved stealing crops to give to the needy and sabotaging some of the new projects ordered by Lotho, such as building shacks and destroying smials. They were not big things, but enough to irritate and harass Lotho and his men. Hobbits are not violent people and none had any desire to kill unless it was truly unavoidable. Sam was often plagued by nightmares about his killing of Fig. Yes, Fig may have deserved it, but that didn't make it any easier for Sam to live with. Sam spent many sleepless nights regretting his actions and thinking about Frodo and the others. Wondering if he would ever see them again. His master was never far from his thoughts.  
  
Late one afternoon, Sam and Fredegar lay on their stomachs well hidden in the brush watching a wagon full of kegs rumble by. "They come by once a week," whispered Fredegar. "Lotho brings kegs of pipeweed up from the south and stores them in caves in the hills of Scary. Then, he sells them in Bree."  
  
"Where does he get all the pipeweed?" asked Sam as he studied the wagon and its driver.  
  
"Well, Lotho grows some of it himself. He owns a good deal of land in the Southfarthing. But, a large amount he has his men 'appropriate for the greater good of the Shire' as he puts it, from the other growers. Needless to say, they never see a shilling," growled Fredegar bitterly. His father had a substantial farm in the south and Lotho's ruffians had helped themselves to a large percentage of his latest crop. "Some will have nothing left to sell themselves and won't have any money to buy supplies for the winter."  
  
Sam nodded thoughtfully. He remembered the wagons he had seen at Sarn Ford as well as the hobbits working in the fields. There must be something they could do! "Do you know where they store the kegs?" he asked turning to his friend.  
  
Fredegar shrugged. "Not exactly. No one has ever bothered to follow the wagons that I know of. What's the point?"  
  
Sam was thinking hard. "What if we took the kegs to Bree and sold them ourselves?" he wondered aloud.  
  
Fredegar turned to stare at him. "Do what? Us steal the kegs and sell them!?" He shook his head in amazement at his friend's audacity, but as he considered the idea, it began to appeal to him.  
  
"Aye," replied Sam. He was staring off into the distance where the wagon had disappeared around a bend. "If we could find out where they're hidin' the pipeweed, we might be able to steal at least some o' the kegs and give the money back to the farmers Lotho stole it from. We'd hit old Pimple where it would hurt him the most – his pocketbook!"  
  
Fredegar now grinned and slapped Sam on the back. "Samwise Gamgee," he said, "I think you have hit upon a very fine plan! Let's follow the wagon and see where it takes us!"  
  
The wagon had been moving along at a leisurely pace. The driver, an obese man dripping sweat, seemed more concerned with the contents of his bottle than about reaching his destination any time soon. Sam and Fredegar easily caught up with the wagon and were able to follow it without much difficulty. The mule seemed to know where it was going and was content to amble along without any interference from the driver.  
  
The sun was low in the sky when they reached a clearing in the woods. A small hut with a trail of smoke meandering from its chimney stood off to one side. On the opposite side of the clearing was a steep cliff, an opening visible at its base.  
  
"Ho! Harry !" cried the driver as the wagon lurched to halt near the cave entrance. "You there?"  
  
A short, stocky man came stumbling out of the hut, hitching up his pants. He looked irritable. "It's about time you showed up, Ham," he growled, scratching his ribs. "I expected you hours ago! I'm more'n ready to get out of this dump!" With that, the two men began unloading the barrels of pipeweed and carrying them into the cave. Lotho had established several such sites where goods could be stored and then shipped out of the Shire. After the barrels were unloaded, Lars took Ham's place on the wagon and turned the mule around. Unlike his predecessor, he was anxious to get going. With a sigh, Ham watched the wagon disappear into the trees. He then turned, bottle clenched firmly in his hand and waddled into the hut, slamming the door behind him.  
  
Sam and Fredegar quietly slipped out from under the cover of the trees and made their way to the cave. There was no gate or other barrier to keep them out. The last rays of the late afternoon sun showed them the large space within was packed with kegs. The two hobbits turned to each other and grinned in triumph. It was obvious there was only one guard at a time and if the two they had already seen were any example of the type of men used, the guard would be little hindrance to their plans. Fredegar grabbed one keg and Sam another, then the two crept from the cave and disappeared back into the forest. There were plans to be made.  
  
It took little effort to convince the others of their plan. Tamblin Bracegirdle was kin to some of the Sandheavers over in Bree and knew they would help fence the stolen merchandise. Largo stared thoughtfully at the two small kegs Sam and Fredegar had brought back.  
  
"I have an idea," he said finally opening one of the kegs and dumping its contents onto the stone floor of the cave. He then put a few handfuls back into the keg covering the bottom and hurried out through the tunnels. When he returned fifteen minutes later, the keg was three-quarters full of old leaves and detritus from the forest outside. Largo then filled the remainder with pipeweed and sealed the keg. "Perfect!" he announced hefting the keg to feel its weight. "If we can remove the pipeweed in sacks and refill the barrels with leaves and such, it will be a long time before they realize what has happened! If they open the kegs, it will look like they're still full of pipeweed. If we steal the kegs outright, even those fools will catch on eventually, but by simply stealing the contents, they'll never know the difference!"  
  
"At least not until after someone has bought the keg!" laughed Fredegar.  
  
"True," agreed Largo, "And when that does happen, we'll probably have to go into a new line of business! But in the meantime, we can at least help out the growers a little."  
  
The plan worked beautifully. Under the cover of darkness, several of the band would creep into the cave, grab as many kegs as they could carry, and hurry back into the woods where the others waited. There, they would dump the pipeweed into sacks, refill the kegs with dead leaves filling the last few inches with a layer of pipeweed and seal them back up again. Then, the kegs were returned to the cave and more brought back and the process was repeated. When they had filled all the sacks they could carry, they halted for the night and returned to their hideout. Later, they transported the goods to the Sandheavers in Bree and after the sales were complete, the money was quietly distributed to the impoverished growers. Everyone agreed it was a great success!  
  
Unfortunately, such success is unlikely to go unnoticed. The band of rebels had located other caches of pipeweed and rather than refill all the barrels , they decided it would be safer to just do some in each. It would be harder to trace where the tampered kegs had come from. But, it wasn't long before buyers outside the Shire began to complain that many of their barrels were full of trash and not the Longbottom leaf they had paid for. Lotho was furious! His men were helpless to explain how or where the tampering had occurred. What was certain was that it was hurting his profits and credibility. If they didn't find the culprits soon, no one would buy Lotho's pipeweed!  
  
Weeks went by and Lotho had been unsuccessful in tracking down the rebels. In fact, if anything, they seemed bolder than ever. It was now early fall and Lotho sat in the study of Bag End fuming. The most recent shipment of pipeweed to Bree had been almost entirely made up of trash. The buyers had informed Lotho's men they would no longer deal with Lotho. They seemed to have acquired other sources of pipeweed; more reliable sources, and no longer needed what he had to offer.  
  
So, Lotho sat before the fire, a half drunk bottle of wine by his side, bemoaning the unfairness of it all. Several empty bottles lay scattered at his feet. It was late and the weather unsettled. Perfect for his foul mood. "It isn't fair!" he whined to himself yet again as he drained his goblet. "It's not my fault! It's those fools who work for me! Bunch o' drunks and thieves! It's not fair!"  
  
"No?" At the sound, Lotho whirled about in his chair so quickly that he found himself unceremoniously sprawled on the floor. He peered in the darkness beyond the door to his study trying to see who had spoken.  
  
"Who...who's there?" he demanded drunkenly, "Show yerself!" He tried to pull himself together, but his legs wouldn't cooperate. A thrill of fear ran down his back as a tall figure clad all in what appeared to rags slowly stepped into the room. It would have been easy to mistake the man for a beggar except for the dark, penetrating eyes that glittered with malice as they stared down at the cowering hobbit. There seemed to be another figure cringing in the darkness of the hallway.  
  
"Do you not know me, Lotho Sackville-Baggins?" asked the man with a sneer, his voice deep and resonant. Lotho merely blinked at him in confusion. The man laughed. It was not a pleasant sound. "You can call me "Sharkey". You have been sending me all sorts of goods for sometime now. It seemed to me that is was time to come and assist you in your endeavors here in the Shire."  
  
"Sh..Sharkey?" repeated Lotho stupidly. "From th'...th' south?"  
  
"Yes," replied the man softly, "That is correct. From the south. It seems to me that I have not come a moment too soon. I have heard that your recent exports of pipeweed have not been of the quality one comes to expect from the Shire."  
  
This brought Lotho lurching to his feet. He grabbed onto the back of the chair for support as he glared belligerently at the gaunt man before him. "S'not my fault!" he declared furiously. "Blasted rebels up in th' hills keep meddlin' with m'kegs! S'not my fault!"  
  
"Rebels, eh?" said Sharkey thoughtfully. "Well, not to worry my dear Lotho. We will take care of them soon enough and then, we will tighten things up here in the Shire. You will see. With me to assist you, no one here in the Shire will be able to resist you and money will soon be pouring in. You will be the wealthiest, most powerful hobbit ever known!"  
  
Lotho grinned blearily as the power of Sharkey's words fell over him. "Yesss!" he hiccupped. "No one'll be able to defy me anymore! I'll be invincible!" He began to laugh and collapsed into his chair. A moment later, he had passed out and Sharkey eyed him with undisguised disgust. The cringing figure from the hallway slowly crept into the circle of firelight and huddled near the feet of its master.  
  
"Well, Wormtongue," said the man still staring down at the unconscious hobbit snoring loudly in the chair. "I suspect our job here will much easier than even I had anticipated. By the time Frodo Baggins and the others return, they will not even recognize their beloved Shire! Perhaps this will teach them not to dismiss me quite so lightly in the future." He turned towards the door and signaled Wormtongue to follow him from the room. "Come, we have much work to do, beginning with the elimination of this so-called rebel band."  
  
As the two figures melted into the darkness of the hallway, Lotho continued to snore contentedly, oblivious to the monster he had just allied himself. Saruman had arrived. 


	23. Rebels Disbanded

I apologize for the delay in updating this, but I have been really sick for the past 5 days and hacking coughs and fevers are not very conducive to writing (at least not for me!). I hope this chapter makes sense (I'm still running a low grade fever!) and that you all enjoy it!  
  
Mogwort, Baileymag, and AouraMaiden: Welcome and thank you so much for reading my story! I am always excited when new people review (which is not to say that I appreciate my wonderfully devoted regular reviewers any less – you guys are the best!). I'm glad you've liked it so far and hope you continue to do so!  
  
FrodoBaggins87: It won't be much longer now!  
  
Gamgeefest: Saruman is just such a fun guy to have around! Yes, he's a little more serious about his general mayhem than Lotho!  
  
Laurajslr: Sam isn't out of the running yet! It would be kind of dull if he did nothing but sit in some stinkin' lockhole for the rest of the story!  
  
Samwise the Strong: Welcome back! I wondered where you'd disappeared to! Glad to see you haven't forgotten me. (  
  
Sam: Ow! Biting is rather painful, wouldn't you say!? But, justly deserved. I didn't even think about Pippin and the palantir when I wrote the last chapter, but it is sort of the same concept.  
  
Janna Hawkins: I think Lotho deserves a lot more than what the rebels did (and of course, he does end up paying the ultimate price once Saruman moves in).  
  
LalaithoftheBruinen: I always have to check several times to make sure I have spelled your name correctly! LOL! How did you come up with it? Sorry this update was delayed, but here it is now! Hope you like it!  
  
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Ch 23 Rebels Disbanded  
  
It was dreary, drizzly autumn night and Sam was worried. Things had been changing in recent weeks and not for the better. It started with the arrival of new groups of ruffians from outside the Shire. The ones Lotho had hired previously had been bad enough, but whereas most of those were no more than bullies and thieves, the new arrivals had shown themselves to be far more violent and with few qualms against killing or torture. Sam remembered the bodies of the hobbits hanging from the trees when he first arrived. He learned later that fortunately, that kind of violence had been restricted to the outlying areas and was actually quite rare. After Fig's death, virtually no other hobbits had been killed leading many to believe that he had been the chief instigator of such cruelty. However with the arrival of the newcomers more killings were reported and the Lockholes were filling up quickly.  
  
It was not just the populace that suffered. The Shire itself was under attack. New orders from Bag End had the ruffians chopping down the beautiful trees throughout the land. The Mill, which had already been expanded by Lotho's command, was changed even further. It was now a blight upon the beauty of the Shire, spewing black smoke into the air and foul substances into the Water, creating a nauseating stench to any who approached too closely.  
  
It also appeared that there had been a change in management in Bag End. Although Lotho was still said to be in charge, all the new commands came from someone called "Sharkey" or simply the Boss. No one had actually seen Lotho in awhile; not that anyone cared, but most agreed that this Sharkey was even worse. Sam sighed. He had certainly been making their work more difficult. There had been several close calls when they were raiding the pipeweed caches. So far, none of the rebel band had been captured, but they were all concerned.  
  
Tonight, Sam was more worried than ever. Several of the band had gone out to carry the stolen pipeweed to the meeting place near the Brandywine River. There, they would meet the hobbits from Bree who would then take the pipeweed on to the town where they would sell it. Fredegar and the others had left three nights ago and still were not back. Sam was sitting in the entrance of one of the many of the caves and holes that riddled the Hills of Scary watching for the return of his comrades.  
  
As he sat there, the raw, biting rain seemed to penetrate to his very bones. Unconsciously, he turned his eyes toward the east, beyond Bree, beyond the Barrows. He was thinking of Frodo and how the two of them had huddled together in a similar rainstorm in the wilds of Emyn Muil. For the first time in a long time, Sam let himself really think about Frodo and what they had been through. Distantly, he could feel a few errant tears make their way down his cheek, then without warning, his sense of loss and grief threatened to overwhelm him as he felt sobs rise from deep within him. How he missed his beloved master! He rested his head on his knees and let his sorrow carry him away. He couldn't have stopped the tears even if he had wanted to. It was as if all the pain he had kept bottled up had finally managed to erupt and wouldn't stop until it had all been released.  
  
How long he wept, he had no idea. Exhausted, he had finally collapsed onto the damp floor of the cave and an uneasy sleep took him. He only regained consciousness when he felt someone gently shaking him and calling his name. Slowly, Sam opened his eyes and blinking, saw the terrified face of Folco Bolger staring down at him. "Sam!" Folco cried again, "You must come right away! Something terrible has happened!" Without a word, Sam climbed to his feet and stumbled after Folco has he led the way back to the rebels' cavern.  
  
There were only a few that had not gone on this trip to deliver the pipeweed, and those that remained were huddled about something near the fire. They looked up as Sam and Folco arrived, their faces reflecting a mixture of horror, fear and anger. As Sam approached, he felt a coldness descend upon him that had nothing to do with the weather. There, lying on the floor with his head supported by Tamblin, was Largo Brockenboring. His shirt was soaked in blood and a black-fletched arrow stood quivering in his side. His face was gray and soaked in sweat.  
  
"Largo!" cried Sam in shock as he crouched beside him, "What's happened? Where are the others?"  
  
Largo's eyes were closed as he fought for every rasping breath. Finally, he opened his eyes and peered up at Sam. "They were wating for us, Sam" he croaked weakly. "They knew we were comin' and ambushed us. I don't know how many they captured alive, but at least two or three others were killed outright." He paused, gasping for breath, trying to muster enough strength to go on. Sam reached to the bucket nearby and trickled some water between Largo's parched lips. Largo gave him a faint smile of thanks. "I had to come back," he whispered. "Had to warn you! You...must leave here. Now. They're coming...." The last was so faint, Sam barely made out the words. It was the last thing Largo ever said. His battered body shuddered in pain and with a final rattling breath, Largo was gone.  
  
Sam and the others stared at Largo's body, unable to believe what had just happened. They had gone on so long without any serious problems, that somehow they had all come to believe that they were invincible. How wrong they had been. "If Lotho's men were indeed waitin' for them," said Sam finally, "That means someone must have talked! If so, they probably know where we are! Largo's right. We got to leave here straightaway!"  
  
"But, where should we go?" asked Folco anxiously. "Lotho's men are everywhere!"  
  
Sam thought for a moment. "We need to head north toward Dwaling. I hear there aren't many men up that away and it won't be so easy for the men to track us in the hills." He looked at the frightened faces before him. "I don't know about you lads, but I'm not ready to give up yet!"  
  
There were only five of them left, but Sam's words gave them courage. They all knew something like this could happen one day, but seeing Largo's bloodied body before them was a terrifying reminder that this was no game. Quickly, the remaining members of the rebel band gathered their weapons and provisions and fled from the cavern that had been their home for so many months. They hadn't gone far up the hill outside the cavern entrance when they heard distant voices.  
  
Sam turned around and peered through the dark and mist. Sound carried a long way in these conditions but he was certain the men would be there soon. Urging the others forward, they silently disappeared into the night.  
  
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Saruman paced back and forth in the small hut he now called home. Although it looked plain on the outside, he had had it furnished quite comfortably and he rarely ventured out. Lately, he had been sending groups of his ruffians out to try and intercept the elusive band of rebels that had been operating somewhere around the Hills of Scary. The rebels had been causing considerable difficulty with the pipeweed shipments, and he wanted it stopped. Recently, he had put out the word that he would be willing provide a generous reward to anyone who could provide him with information leading to the capture of the band. A rather despicable hobbit living alone near the Brandywine had happened to catch sight of one of the exchanges between the rebels and the Bree hobbits and was more than happy to bring this information to Sharkey.  
  
For almost two weeks Sharkey's men kept watch by the Brandywine without success, but just an hour ago, a messenger had arrived with the news that the rebels had been captured! Saruman was now awaiting further information. He wanted to know if all the rebels had been captured and if not, where were the rest?  
  
A short while later, Saruman heard a knock at the door. Bill Ferny stood there with a triumphant smirk on his large mouth and a haggard looking hobbit held tightly in his grip. "'ello, Boss!" said Ferny, still grinning, "I brung ye one o' them troublemakers that's been makin' off with yer pipeweed. Figured ye might be wantin' ta talk to 'im!" With that, Ferny gave the hobbit a rough shoving, sending him sprawling across the floor.  
  
"Thank you, Bill," said Saruman, his dark eyes narrowing as he examined the unfortunate prisoner. "How many did you capture?"  
  
"Well," said Ferny thoughtfully as he swaggered into the hut. "I reckon there were 'bout ten o' the little rats. We done caught eight of 'em, and two's dead. O' course, there were more 'cross th' river, but we couldn't get to them in time."  
  
Saruman nodded, then turned to the cowering hobbit before him. The hobbit was young, barely into his tweens, and not likely to put up much resistance. Saruman slowly advanced, his eyes boring into the hobbit's. "Tell me, master hobbit," said Saruman in his low, melodious voice, "What is your name?" Although Saruman had lost his magical powers with the downfall of Orthanc, he still had the power of his voice.  
  
"W...Will Proudfoot, sir," stammered the young hobbit, unable to tear his eyes away.  
  
"Excellent, Will," purred Saruman, "Now, you will tell me if there are any more rebels running loose, what their names are and where they are hiding. Do you understand?"  
  
Will nodded as if mesmerized. "There are only six others sir. Tamblin Bracegirdle, Folco Bolger, Rory and Largo Brockenboring, and Sam Gamgee."  
  
Saruman frowned at the final name. It sounded vaguely familiar somehow. Where had he heard it before? "Who is Sam Gamgee?" Saruman asked quickly.  
  
"He..he's from Hobbiton," began Will in a frightened voice, but unable to stop himself. "He worked for Mr. Frodo Baggins in his gardens. Then, 'bout a year ago, he and Mr. Frodo disappeared with two others, Merry Brandybuck and Pippin Took. Sam says he and Mr. Frodo went to Mordor to destroy some ring. Sam came back in the spring, but the others aren't back yet." Will stopped, eyeing Sharkey nervously. The man had started to laugh, quietly at first, but soon his voice was filling the room.  
  
"Samwise Gamgee!" he laughed. "Of course! I remember now! Gandalf told me all about Frodo and his companion! How perfect!" He then turned to Will again. "You will tell Master Ferny here exactly how to find the rebels' hideout, do you understand?" Will nodded quickly. Saruman then looked at Ferny. "I want the rest of those rebels brought in immediately," he ordered. "I especially want Samwise Gamgee and I want him alive." Bill nodded eagerly, then hurried away, hauling the hapless Will Proudfoot after him.  
  
Saruman continued to laugh softly. He sat down in his chair before the fire and turned to the figure crouching in the corner. "I do not believe things could possibly have worked out better, my dear Wormtongue," he chortled. "Do you not see what this means? After what those miserable halflings did to me, it has been my intention to teach them that they cannot expect to come out of this unscathed. Thus, I have been doing my best to destroy their precious Shire. But now, think how much greater the pain when Frodo Baggins comes home to find not only his precious home has been destroyed, but his dearest companion as well! What a perfect ending!" 


	24. Of Saboteurs and Lockholes

Author's Notes: Howdy all! Well, despite numerous computer problems (such as my computer won't connect to the internet all of a sudden and keeps locking up) I managed to get this chapter done. I sure hope it makes sense!  
  
Janna Hawkins: Saruman and Ferny definitely are not nice people! I'm sure they will both get their just desserts! Unfortunately, in this story, they continue to be as nasty as ever!  
  
Baileymag: Thank you so much for your kind words! I think I'm getting a little better as I go on (I like to hope so, anyway!). I try to keep things interesting and I'm pleased that you have found it so! I hope you keep reading!  
  
Bronwyn: Sam hasn't done enough suffering lately. I think it's time to change that and thank goodness Saruman is there to help out!  
  
Gamgeefest: I am feeling better, thanks! The annoying cough still lingering but even that is getting better. As one of the shirriffs said to Sam, there are plenty of hobbits in the Shire who are happy to help out the troublemakers! This is just one of them.  
  
Aoura Maiden: Thank you for your wonderful complement! It's the wonderful readers like yourself that has turned my little experiment ("On Borrowed Time") into a full-fledged hobby!  
  
LalaithoftheBruinen: I think your name is wonderful! Very creative, I must say. And I am happy to say, that I am feeling much better. Thanks!  
  
Lauralsjr: Hope you've caught up on your sleep! LOL! I didn't want to Sam to spend the rest of the story cooling his heels in the Lockholes. I think we're winding down here (but as I'm still writing, I'm not sure what the final chapter count will be), but Sam is still out there!  
  
Sam: Frodo will be there...eventually! As for Fredegar, this chapter should help clear that up.  
  
Althea: Sam more careful? Hmm. He's become a bit more reckless in his old age as this chapter will demonstrate!  
  
FrodoBaggins87: Only time will tell as to whether or not Saruman will get his claws into Our Hero!  
  
Hobbity: I am so pleased that you are hooked on this story! That means I must be doing something right! LOL! I hope you continue to read and enjoy!  
  
Rabidsamfan: I'm afraid this chapter won't ease your mind any!  
  
Bookworm2000: We can but hope that Frodo will arrive in time! That is the question!  
  
RenaissanceGrrl: Wow! What a lot of rather impressive reviews! They are fantastic! Yes, I do own the Atlas and Middle Earth and have found it extremely helpful when writing these stories. The maps in the book are only marginally useful. As for Pelennor...sigh I must just have a mental block about that place! Also, I was puzzled about your remark concerning "Ted" in Ch 20 so I went and looked. I put in the wrong name! I mean, there certainly could be a man named Ted (and I guess there is now! LOL!) But, I would normally avoid using identical names to prevent such confusion. You are a very perceptive reader! Anyway, thanks so much for taking the time to write such lengthy, well thought out reviews. I really enjoy them!  
  
Well, here's the next chapter (and hopefully I've avoided any further glaring errors, but I'm sure as soon as I post this, I'll see several!) Thanks to all of you that have been reading and special thanks to you wonderful reviewers!  
  
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Chapter 24 Saboteurs and Lockholes  
  
It was a long, grueling night for Sam and his companions. Rory Brockenboring was their guide. He had grown up in the area and knew it well. He was leading them through the rocky hills to a small cave once used by smugglers. It was well hidden and difficult to get to. The five exhausted hobbits wound their way through the steep and winding pathways. They were wet clear through from the drizzling rain and often stumbled on the slick stones. However, they knew the men were looking for them, and although Sam seriously doubted they could follow the hobbits through this terrain in the dark, he wanted to get as far away as possible before stopping.  
  
When the dreary, gray dawn finally broke, it found the hobbits nearing their destination. "Just 'round this bend, lads" announced Rory wearily as he led them down a narrow ravine. He stopped for a moment studying his surroundings then with a faint cry of relief stumbled towards a towering mound of boulders. The others stared at him with a dazed look. "Hold on!" grinned Rory. He moved around towards the back of the mound, then began pushing on one of the boulders. Oddly enough, it seemed to roll out of the way with little effort and revealed a surprisingly large opening into the side of the cliff. Just inside the opening, was a small keg with several unlit torches. Rory reached in, pulled one out and lit it. "This way!" he said and the others followed him into the passageway.  
  
As soon as everyone was safely in, Rory reached over towards the boulder where a handle had been fixed and pulled it back into place. If not for the torch, they would have been totally engulfed in darkness. Rory led them down a short, dry passageway into the cave. It wasn't nearly as large as the one they had previously inhabited, but seemed comfortable enough. Sam noticed several kegs towards the back wall as well as a couple of wooden chests.  
  
"Smugglers used to hide here," explained Rory as the others went to examine the items. "Some o' the stuff is left over from them. But most of it's stuff my cousins and I brought when we were younger. It was our secret hideaway." He stopped abruptly, his voice catching in his throat. The others looked away uncomfortably. Largo had been one of those cousins.  
  
Sam took a quick inventory. There was some food and water, blankets, a couple of lanterns and a container full of lantern oil. It was this last item that captured Sam's attention. Frowning in thought, he carefully hefted the small keg. Tamblin sidled up beside him. "What are ye thinkin', Sam?" he asked quietly. He had seen that look before.  
  
Sam turned to look at the other four hobbits before him. "I know we're in a bit of a tough spot," he began, "But I don't reckon any of us wants to give up. If somebody don't fight back, things will just get worse and worse. I'm thinkin' that perhaps it's time we started doing a little more fightin'".  
  
The others glanced at each other a little anxiously. "What do ye mean?" asked Tamblin cautiously.  
  
"I'm thinkin'," replied Sam slowly, "That we need to make things a bit more difficult for Lotho and his new man, that Sharkey. If we can make it harder for them to move their stolen goods out of Hobbiton, so much the better. I think we should start burnin' down some of the bridges around the Shire. If they can't cross the rivers, they can't sell the stuff. At the very least, it'll cause them some misery and aggravation!"  
  
The others frowned as they considered this new proposal. After what had happened to the rest of their band, they were feeling far less adventurous than they had in the past. They were afraid that if they got caught burning down bridges or buildings, they would get far worse than the Lockholes. Sam was already condemned, so was more willing to take the risk. After a few moments of anxious discussion, they all finally agreed to give it a try.  
  
Sam and Tamblin volunteered to make the first sortie. Sam felt they should try something a little less obvious, so one dark night a few days later, they headed for the bridge at Budge Ford. The ruffians used it to cart goods from the North Farthing. Using the keg of lantern oil, Sam poured a generous amount of the flammable liquid over the bridge and its supports. With great satisfaction, the two hobbits watched as the bridge burst into flames. They watched for a few minutes, then melted back into the darkness and into the hills, their mission a complete success.  
  
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Saruman was livid. Three important bridges had burned down in the past two weeks and he was certain Samwise Gamgee was behind it. Saruman's men had been unable to capture the remaining rebels and Saruman found it hard to believe that a second group had suddenly cropped up in the same area. The fact that the destruction of the bridges impeded the shipment of pipeweed and other crops out of the Shire didn't anger him nearly as much as the thought that again one of the accursed Fellowship was thwarting him. He would put an end to this if it was the last thing he ever did!  
  
Saruman turned at the knock at the door. "Come!" he commanded and watched impassively as Ted Sandyman and Bill Ferny stepped hesitantly into the room. Both regarded the old man nervously.  
  
"I, uh, I found 'im boss," said Ferny giving Ted a slight push forward. Ted glared at Bill.  
  
"Excellent," smiled Saruman turned his attention to the disheveled hobbit before him. "You are Ted Sandyman, the miller, are you not?"  
  
"Uh, yessir," replied Ted quickly. "Lived 'ere all me life!"  
  
Saruman nodded encouragingly. "Then I supposed you are well acquainted with Samwise Gamgee?"  
  
"Aye," replied Ted darkly, "I know 'im. I was there when 'ee done old Fig, weren't I? I've known Sam since we were lads. I can tell ye anything ye want about ol'Sam."  
  
"I was hoping you would say that," smiled Saruman thinly. He turned and motioned to Wormtongue who was skulking in the corner as usual. The one- time advisor to kings scurried over with a mug of ale and placed it on the table in front of Ted. "Please," said Saruman smoothly and gesturing to the mug, "Refresh yourself. Then, perhaps you can tell me who in this town would be most important to Samwise Gamgee."  
  
With a broad grin and a nod of thanks, Ted took the mug and downed its contents in just a few gulps. Even for him, an ardent supporter of Sharkey and his ruffians, ale was hard to come by. "Well, Boss," began Ted wiping his mouth with a contented grin as he felt the warmth of the ale spread through him, "His ol' dad, the Gaffer would be mighty important, but 'ee's disappeared. Ain't seen hide nor hair of 'im since Sam murdered poor Fig. Then, there's that big blond feller Sam rode in with. Lotho had 'im locked up right quick. I know Sam used to go on 'bout 'im all th' time when 'ee was workin' for the Chief." He stopped and looked at the mug longingly. With a nod from Saruman, Wormtongue refilled it.  
  
"Big, blonde fellow?" asked Saruman with a frown.  
  
"Aye, that's right," nodded Ferny. "He was ridin' a huge black horse. Took six men to tie 'im down! The feller was wearin' some mighty fancy armor. The Chief had the helmet over his fireplace!"  
  
Saruman continued to frown. "Wormtongue!" he called suddenly. His servant scuttled forward. "Take Ferny here into Bag End and find that helmet. I wish to see it!" He watched silently as the two left his hut. He then turned again to Ted, who was finishing off his second mug. "Is there anyone else you can thing of," he asked again.  
  
Ted sat down heavily in the chair across from Saruman with a malicious grin. "Oh, aye," he said softly, "I can think of someone else alright! The pretty miss Rosie Cotton! It was cuz of her that ol' Fig got done in. Sam is mighty sweet on that lass. Everyone in Hobbiton knows that! Ol' Sam is like part o' the Cotton family already!" He stopped as Ferny and Wormtongue returned.  
  
Wormtongue held out the helm in alarm. "A Rider of Rohan, my lord!" he whined. "Here!"  
  
Saruman examined the elegantly designed helm and nodded. "It is as I suspected." He looked up at Ferny. "Have you seen this Rider lately?"  
  
Ferny shook his head. "Nah, he's been in that Lockhole fer months. Can't imagine he'd be much t'look at now!"  
  
Saruman was silent for a few moments, then looked up at Ferny. "Alright," he said decisively. "I want you to bring that Rider here and lock him up in one of the sheds. I want to send men to arrest the Cotton family here in Hobbiton. Make sure they get Rosie Cotton. Lock them up as well. Make sure there is a heavy guard on the sheds. I do not want them to escape."  
  
Ferny glanced at Ted. "What're yeh plannin' on doin', Boss?" he asked eagerly.  
  
Saruman leaned back and stared up at the ceiling. "We shall put flyers up all over the Shire. Make announcements in every town and village. I want it known that if Samwise Gamgee does not turn himself in within the next 5 days, the executions will begin, perhaps starting with Miss Rosie herself!" He now leaned forward staring intently at those before him. "I want Samwise Gamgee and I want him now!"  
  
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Hertig lay in the cold, damp Lockhole listening to the sounds of misery around him. Since this new "Sharkey" person had arrived, the Lockholes were fuller than ever. Hertig had been trying to figure out a way to escape for weeks, but the opportunity had never presented itself. He was much weaker than he had been when he arrived and he worried that if he didn't escape soon, he would not have the strength.. They barely fed the hobbits enough so he certainly was far from well nourished. He sighed and thought again of Sam.  
  
A few weeks ago, several new hobbits had been brought in and there was much excitement surrounding their arrival. "Fatty Bolger!" cried Mayor Whitfoot when a couple of the newcomers were tossed into their cell. "You're alive! Last we heard you were runnin' a band of rebels up in the Hills of Scary!"  
  
Fredegar collapsed onto the floor in exhaustion, his face gaunt and haunted. "Aye, I was Mayor," he whispered. "Me and about 14 others." He looked up at Mayor Whitfoot. "Sam Gamgee was with us."  
  
"Sam!" exclaimed the Mayor looking at Hertig sitting beside him. The ceiling of the cell was too low for him to stand comfortably. "We heard he'd killed that villain, Fig and then disappeared. So, he joined up with you?"  
  
Fredegar nodded, sipping some water from a dipper. "That's right." He smiled wanly. "You never would have recognized him, Mayor! Quiet, shy Samwise Gamgee led us on more missions than I can count! He wasn't scared of anything! Thank goodness he wasn't on our last one. We'd been stealin' and smugglin' pipeweed out of the Shire for weeks, but someone musta seen us and turned us in." He grew quiet then as he remembered that awful night. "Poor Bertie Banks and Milo Brandybuck were killed outright by them ruffians. I think Largo Brockenboring got away. The others were taken. Sam and maybe four others were still at the hideout. I don't know what's happened to them. With any luck, perhaps they're still free."  
  
"Well, they aren't in here, at any rate," replied the Mayor placing his hand on Fredegar's shoulder. "You were an inspiration to us all," he said to Fredegar and the others with him. "Somehow, knowing at least a few were fighting back gave us all hope." He bowed his head sadly. "As fort young Bertie Banks and Milo Brandybuck, they will be remembered as heroes as will you all!"  
  
Hertig smiled now as he remembered the mayor's words. The Rider had been impressed by the resiliency and bravery of these hobbits. All were miserable, but few complained in the dank, fetid lockholes. He then thought of his own home on the wide open plains of Rohan and felt the painful twinge of homesickness. How he missed his wife and children and Manelys, his companion on so many campaigns. He sighed wearily, wondering if he would ever be free again.  
  
As he lay there in the dark, he suddenly felt someone gently shake his shoulder. "Hertig?" came a whispered voice. "Hertig! Wake up!" Hertig turned his face and saw Mayor Whitfoot and Fredegar hovering above him.  
  
"What is it?" Hertig asked rising up on one elbow.  
  
The mayor looked around excitedly. "We've just heard – some men have come to take you to Hobbiton in the morning!"  
  
Hertig frowned. "Why?"  
  
"My friend on the outside said that this Sharkey fellow has a new plan for capturing Sam," replied the Mayor grimly. "He plans to use you and the Cottons as hostages and says he's going to execute one of you every day until Sam surrenders!"  
  
Hertig sat up as straight as he could in the confined space. "What!?" he cried in horrified disbelief. "What kind of monster is this Sharkey? Well, I for one refuse to be used as bait! I will escape somehow."  
  
The Mayor and Fredegar exchanged glances and nodded. "We have an idea," said Fredegar, "But if you do escape, you must go to Bree and not go looking for Sam."  
  
Hertig was confused. Looking for Sam would have been the first thing he would do if regained his freedom. It would be against his code of honor to abandon his friend!  
  
Fredegar moved closer. "Sam told us that Frodo and the others would probably be arriving here any day now. If someone doesn't warn them, they'll be walking straight into a trap! Plus, we're hopin' that if you get through, you could bring back help so we could oust this Sharkey , Lotho and their ruffians once and for all!" Hertig sat silently for a moment thinking about all he had seen and heard since he had met Samwise Gamgee. Sam would have wanted him to warn Frodo above everything else. He was certain of that. He looked into the faces of the anxious hobbits before him and nodded. If he escaped he would make for Bree 


	25. The Pieces are Moving

Well guys, here is the next chapter. Things are moving along! Thanks to all of you for reading and reviewing and I hope you enjoy this installment!  
  
Gamgeefest: We'll be seeing a bit more of Hertig now. Hate for him to have nothing to do but rot in the Lockholes!  
  
Merimas gamgee: I haven't completely decided just how AU the scouring will be. Obviously, some things will be different. The story's not done yet, so only time will tell!  
  
Laurajslr: That's what happens when you end up with a cast of thousands! I really hadn't planned on all these various characters when I started out. Just goes to show you never know where a story will lead you!  
  
Sam: I'm glad you like the relationship between Hertig and the hobbits. He's a nice guy and has already some idea what hobbits can do after meeting Sam and the others. He has a lot of respect for them!  
  
Aouramaiden: Thanks! I'm glad this is keeping you interested! I'm not sure what will happen to Sam in the end...  
  
Bloodroses9: Hello and welcome! Thank you so much for all the reviews! Just to clarify a couple of things: When Sam falls off the cliff, he really does fall, but to Legolas who was quite some distance away (and it was dark and raining) it looked as if Sam purposefully fell off. That was why he was so concerned over Sam's mental condition. If they all thought he just slipped, it wouldn't have nearly so worrisome. In Ch. 3, Frodo was talking about Gollum (and if you recall, Gollum did pretend to care about Frodo and claimed he "just wanted to help", etc. all the kinds of things Sam truly wanted). But, it was meant to be confusing. Because all those things could have applied to Sam as well, Sam naturally assumed Frodo was talking about him. Anyway, I hope the rest of the story makes sense to you and I do appreciate any constructive criticism!  
  
Althea: Well, here is the next chapter! Sam is going to need more help than ever!  
  
Bronwyn: Hmm. I just realized the title of this chapter is straight from you post (which I guess is also from the movie!). Great minds must think alike! LOL!  
  
Rabidsamfan: Yes, Hertig is back and we'll be seeing more of him! As for Rosie... well....  
  
Baileymag: Thanks! Glad you're still enjoying this looong story! As for Frodo and Co.,, not yet! They'll be back soon, but not in this chapter. Sorry!  
  
Chapter 25 The Pieces are Moving  
  
They came for Hertig the next morning. "Where is that big feller?" demanded Bill Ferny as he looked into the depths of the Lockhole where Hertig and several others were kept. He had to bend over to move inside.  
  
"He's right here," replied the Mayor indicating a body lying motionless on the ground.  
  
Ferny peered suspiciously at the figure. "Is he dead?" he asked frowning. The Boss wouldn't be pleased if the Rider was already dead.  
  
"No," sighed the Mayor weakly. "But nearly. You barely provide enough food to keep us hobbits alive. A big man like him hasn't a chance. He's barely moved in days. You'll have to carry him out."  
  
Ferny had brought several other ruffians with him to subdue the Rider if need be and with a grunt, he sent them in to retrieve the inert form. "Move back you lot!" he snarled thrusting his torch towards the small figures hovering nearby. The hobbits in the Lockhole crowded towards the back wall watching the men's every move. The Mayor and Fredegar exchanged apprehensive glances as one of them men rolled Hertig over on his back.  
  
"He does look pretty bad," he announced, looking up at Ferny.  
  
"Well, as long as he's alive, bring 'im along and dump 'im in the wagon," replied Ferny moving back towards the entrance. One of the men grabbed Hertig's feet and dragged him towards the entrance. Once out of the Lockhole's confining space, they were able to lift him up and carry him away to the wagon. Hertig never moved.  
  
Once the door had been bolted and the men gone, the Mayor and Fredegar breathed a nervous sigh of relief. "Do you think he'll be able to do it?" asked Fredegar quietly.  
  
The Mayor continued to stare at the door thoughtfully. "Well, if he can't no one can."  
  
Ferny watched as the two men tossed Hertig into the back of the wagon onto the pile of moldy straw. He did look bad, thought Ferny with satisfaction. The Rider appeared sickly and emaciated; his face pale and haggard and his breathing labored. "I don't think this feller's gonna give us any problems today!" he laughed shoving the Rider further into the wagon. "I'll be lucky if he's still alive by the time I get 'im back to the Boss!" The others joined in his laughter. Ferny then decided that he could manage this alone and told the others they could go. Most importantly, it would give him the opportunity to make a little stop at his secret cache of ale along the way!  
  
He mounted the wagon box and took up the reins and in a few moments, he was on his way. The sky was dark and lowering on this raw autumn morning and Ferny was looking forward to a few drinks to warm himself up. Granted, he was able to get some ale while he was in Michel Delving, but he had the good stuff hidden away. He was just glad he didn't need to bring any of those others with him The trip would take all day and he didn't see why he didn't deserve a little reward. He glanced back at the unconscious man lying in the back. Ferny smirked. Some mighty soldier! It was obvious he wouldn't be any trouble. This day was looking better all the time.  
  
They had been on the road for many hours and had passed the village of Waymeet when Hertig made his move. The Mayor had instructed him to wait until they were well out of Michel Delving and into the country. There wasn't a lot of traffic on the Great East Road these days, so his chances of being seen were slim. Ferny had stopped by his cache several hours ago and was already most of the way through his second bottle of ale. Plus, the rain that had threatened all day finally made its appearance. It was a cold, driving rain and Ferny sat heavily bundled in his cloak. Hertig cautiously opened his eyes and looked up to where the other man sat oblivious to all but his bottle and misery.  
  
Hertig began to slowly edge his way towards the back of the wagon. The rain masked what little sound he made and when he reached the end, he carefully rose to his knees. He looked back one last time towards Ferny, then silently leapt over the back of the wagon and into the mud of the road. He crouched there for several moments watching the wagon, then rising up, sprinted awkwardly towards the trees. His long imprisonment had weakened him, but he was not about to allow that to stop him. The Mayor and Fredegar had advised him to go south and try to make it to Tuckburrow. The Tooks, though surrounded and contained in the Green Hill country, were not under the Chief's thumb. If anyone could somehow help Hertig escape from the Shire, it would be the Tooks.  
  
Silently, he made his way through the forest. The rain, although still heavy, was somewhat lessened by the trees. He knew it would be best to keep moving as long as the rain continued. Any guards in the area would be less likely to be out and about. The light was quickly fading and soon it would be completely dark. Hertig had no idea how long he struggled through the dripping, tangled woods, but he was exhausted and chilled clear to the bone. However, he didn't dare stop. He was afraid if he did, he might not have the strength to get started again, so on he went.  
  
Finally, when he felt he couldn't go another step, a voice called out to him from the darkness. "Halt, Man! Stay right where you are and don't move!" Breathing heavily, Hertig lurched to a halt and stood swaying in the rain. He watched apprehensively as several small figures armed with bows came cautiously out of the brush, their arrows aimed directly at his chest.  
  
"Who are you?" demanded the leader, a stocky fellow with piercing eyes. He was eyeing Hertig suspiciously, but something about this man seemed different to him. Thus, he had not ordered his men to fire.  
  
"My name is Hertig of Rohan," panted the exhausted Rider. "I came to the Shire in the spring with my friend, Samwise Gamgee, but we were captured and I was imprisoned. I was being taken to Hobbiton supposedly to be executed, but escaped. Mayor Whitfoot told me I need to get to Bree to warn Frodo Baggins and his companions about the state of the Shire." Hertig knew this didn't make sense, but his mind seemed to barely work now. All he wanted to do was collapse and sleep.  
  
The hobbits looked at each other in confusion. "You say you know Frodo Baggins?" demanded the leader, "Do you know his companions as well?"  
  
Hertig nodded. "Aye, Merry Brandybuck and Pippin Took. They are well known throughout Gondor and Rohan. They are heroes."  
  
This caused much excitement among the hobbits, but Hertig was too weary to listen to what they were saying. Finally, the leader turned back to Hertig. "I don't know anything about Gondor or Rohan," he said, "But, I think the Thain might be interested in what you have to say. You better come with us." Again, Hertig nodded and without another word, allowed himself to led away further into the forest. He had found the Tooks.  
  
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
Sam and his band of rebels had successfully destroyed three key bridges, disrupting the efficient flow of stolen goods out of the Shire. They had been ecstatic when Sam and Tamblin returned from that first mission with news of their success.  
  
"Ha!" cried Rory Brockenboring defiantly, "Let this be a lesson to old Pimple and his new lackey, Sharkey! We'll show them that hobbits aren't to be trifled with!" The others agreed enthusiastically. Sam, although pleased with their success, felt oddly removed from the celebration. It hurt him to destroy anything within the Shire and the bridges had been there for many, many years. It was almost as painful as seeing the destruction wrought by Sharkey's men upon the trees and natural beauty of the Shire. Sadly, he wondered if anything would ever be normal again.  
  
Over the next couple of weeks, they managed to destroy two more bridges and then Sam decided it was time to lay low for awhile. "But Sam!" cried Folco in frustration, "We're doin' so well! Pretty soon, we could burn down every bridge in the Shire!"  
  
Sam just shook his head. "We've been lucky so far, lads," he cautioned. "Lotho and Sharkey will see the way of it now. The bridges will be more heavily guarded. We had the advantage of surprise before and now that's gone. If we wait a bit and do nothing, the men will get careless again. Then, it will be time to strike."  
  
The other hobbits didn't completely agree with this, but were willing to defer to Sam. He hadn't led them astray thus far. So, the small group hid fairly comfortably in the cave. Rory occasionally made trips into the village of Dwaling  
for supplies. He was known there and the village was remote enough that few men bothered it so Rory didn't worry much. It was on such a foray that he came across the most terrible news.  
  
Sam had been dozing in the cave one bitter evening. Tamblin, Folco, and Tigo Hornblower were sitting around the fire discussing food. There wasn't nearly enough of it in these hills, and the hobbits frequently entertained themselves remembering some of their favorite meals. They had just finished comparing favorite desserts when Rory came in. The three looked up to call to him, but stopped at the anguished expression on his face. Rory glanced apprehensively at Sam who appeared to be fast asleep. Putting his finger to his lips to silence the others, he hurried over to them, pulling out a piece of parchment as he did.  
  
"What's that you've got there, Rory?" whispered Folco trying to read the parchment.  
  
"It's a flyer from Dwaling," replied Rory grimly. "They've got 'em up everywhere! And there's men making announcements in every village in the Shire. It's bad news, lads, very bad." He slowly unrolled the parchment so the others could see. "It says here that if Sam doesn't give 'imself up by October 29, the Chief decrees that the following people will be executed, one every other day!" Horrified, the hobbits stared at each other.  
  
"Who's on the list?" asked Tamblin hoarsely. He couldn't imagine even Lotho being that evil.  
  
Rory took a deep breath. "Says here, 'Rosie Cotton, Hertig of Rohan, Tom and Mrs. Cotton as well as Tom, Jr., Jolly, and Nibs Cotton.'" He continued to stare at it as if doing so might make the words disappear.  
  
"Sam is mighty sweet on Rosie," said Folco worriedly. "And you know how close he is with th' rest o' the Cottons. I imagine his Gaffer'd be on that list if he hadn't gone into hidin' after Fig was killed."  
  
"Aye," agreed Tigo, "And he's told us a lot about that Hertig fellow from Rohan. I know it'd be mighty painful to Sam if he was killed!"  
  
"So, what do we do?" asked Tamblin in a trembling voice. "Do we give this to Sam?"  
  
That was the question. They all knew that if Sam saw this, he would give himself up straight away and there was no question in any of their minds that that would spell certain death for their friend.  
  
"I dunno," replied Rory miserably. "But, if we don't tell 'im and he finds out we knew, no tellin' what he might do."  
  
"Tell me what?" asked a sleepy voice in the darkness. Startled, the hobbits jumped and glanced guiltily at one another. Sam strolled slowly over to the fire where the others sat watching him anxiously. Sam looked from one distraught face to the next and frowned. "What's wrong?" he demanded.  
  
Rory glanced down at the parchment in his hands, then reluctantly handed it to Sam. He could barely bear to let it go. "This is hangin' in all the villages, Sam," he said unhappily.  
  
Sam said nothing as he read the flyer but his face grew paler and paler. He slowly sat down as if in a trance. He couldn't seem to be able to tear his eyes from the chilling announcement. Then, with no warning, he cried, "Noooo!" with such anguish and horror the others leapt to their feet in alarm. "Nooo!" cried Sam again burying his face in the hands, "No! No! NO!!!"  
  
"Sam!" began Rory tentatively, unsure of what to say. "it...it will be alright! We'll think of something!" The others nodded encouragingly.  
  
Sam raised his tear-streaked face and stared at them with hopeless eyes. "Don't you understand?" he cried shaking the paper at them. "It's already too late! Didn't you see the date? Didn't you notice? The first execution was set for October 29! That was yesterday! It's already begun!" With a sob, he buried his face again, his entire body shaking with grief. Tamblin reached down and picked up the tear-stained parchment and looked at the list of hostages. He closed his eyes briefly as if unable to bear what he saw, then turned his gaze on Sam's distraught form. Rosie Cotton's name was first on the list. 


	26. Hertig's Escape

OK guys. Here is the next chapter! Thanks to you all for the reviews. I don't have much time tonight, so will have to skip the individual thanks – but trust me, I am thrilled with each and every review (and FrodoBaggins87 you know perfectly well you can never have TOO many reviews! LOL!). Thanks again to all of your for reading and reviewing and I hope you enjoy this next installment.  
  
Chapter 26 Hertig's Escape  
  
Hertig followed the hobbits through narrow tracks known only to them. He had ceased caring where he went as long as it wasn't back to the Lockholes. The going was rough for someone as tall as he and several times he was forced to crawl through low hanging tunnels of brush, but he didn't complain. He was eager to get out of these dismal woods!  
  
Finally, they came to what appeared to Hertig as a round door built into a hillside. "Wait here," said the leader and disappeared inside the door while the others waited outside. Hertig leaned wearily against the side of the hill, closing his eyes in exhaustion. The other hobbits continued to watch him warily. A short while later, the first hobbit returned and beckoned the others to enter. This was one of the many entrances into the Took's Great Smials. This one, one of the lesser entryways, led into a low hallway, high enough for the hobbits , but awkwardly low for someone of Hertig's height. Bent low, the Rider clumsily followed the hobbits through the passageway and into a large chamber. It was empty of furnishings except for a hobbit sized table and chairs. Seated at this table was an elderly yet fierce looking hobbit. Several other hobbits stood nearby armed with bows. They all watched Hertig suspiciously.  
  
"This the Man you spoke of, Ferdinand?" the Elder asked, looking Hertig up and down.  
  
"Aye, Thain, that's right," replied the leader of the hobbits that had brought Hertig in. "Claims he was locked up with Ol' Will and knows about Pippin., Merry , and Frodo."  
  
"Hmm," grunted the older hobbit, still peering at Hertig. "Well, Man, what have you to say for yourself. What do you know about Pippin?"  
  
The room was almost high enough for Hertig to stand erect, so he was slightly more comfortable. He sighed and tried to look less bedraggled. "My name is Hertig from Rohan. I am one of the Rohirrim or Riders. I met Pippin Took after the Battle Helms Deep. He and his kinsmen, Merry Brandybuck were instrumental in the downfall of the evil White Wizard, Saruman. Later, Pippin fought bravely defending the city of Minas Tirith from the Black Lord's horde of orcs. He saved the life of Lord Faramir, the steward's son. Master Pippin also fought at the Battle of the Black Gates and as I understand, was nearly slain by a troll. But, he has since recovered and he, Merry Brandybuck and Frodo Baggins, as well as Samwise Gamgee are counted as heroes of Middle Earth." He paused here as the hobbits in the room began to talk excitedly among themselves.  
  
"You're sure it was Pippin who did all this?" asked the old hobbit incredulously. "And Merry?"  
  
Hertig gave a small laugh. "Aye, my lord," he replied. "Even the smallest can make a difference."  
  
With that, the Thain gave a loud, booming laugh. "By george!" he boomed, "Who would have thought that young Pippin and Merry would have turned themselves around to such a degree! I'll have you know, sir, that they were known more for their mischief than brave deeds!" He grinned at Hertig, "Pippin is my son and it pleases me to hear he has done so well!" He then turned to one of the hobbits behind him. "Bring food and drink for this Rider from Rohan," he ordered. "He looks as if he will fall over any minute!" He turned back to Hertig. "Please, sir, sit. I'm afraid we have no chairs to fit such as yourself, but I suspect even the floor will be better than standing!"  
  
With a grateful sigh, Hertig slid to the floor and leaned against the wall. "Thank you, my lord."  
  
"Now, now!" cried the Thain in his loud voice, "None of the "my lord" business! We've no lord here, young fellow. Now, tell me more of why you are here. Ferdinand here says you claim the Mayor sent you."  
  
Hertig nodded then his face lit up eagerly as two hobbits arrived with food and drink. The Thain nodded for him to go ahead and eat. Still, Hertig managed to get his story out between bites. He finished his food and his story almost at the same time.  
  
"And so, Fredegar Bolger said that Sam believed Frodo and the others would be arriving soon. The Mayor hoped that I would be able to intercept them and warn them of the troubles here and perhaps bring help to oust the troublemakers." Hertig sighed contentedly as he downed his mug of ale. The Thain had a ready supply and didn't care about the Chief's orders to turn in all alcoholic beverages.  
  
"Well, well, well," said the Thain thoughtfully. "That is quite a tale indeed. The Mayor is right. We don't want Pippin, Merry and Frodo to walk into a trap. Lotho always despised Bilbo and Frodo and things would go ill for Master Baggins. As for bringing back help. Hmph." The Thain gave a snort of disdain. "All we really need is someone strong enough to unite the hobbits against these ruffians. We certainly outnumber 'em. We've made a stand, but there aren't enough Tooks to do it all. We need the rest of the countryside to rise as well. We've been bottled up here in the Green Hill country for far too long. If young Pippin and Merry have been involved in all the battles you claim, perhaps they'll be just what we need to get things moving!"  
  
The Thain sat silently for a moment, then turned to Ferdinand. "We will let Master Hertig here have a good night's rest, then you can lead him across the Brandywine to Buckland. Take him to my sister, Esmeralda at Brandy Hall. I'm sure she can arrange a guide to take our friend here to Bree." Ferdinand nodded. The Thain turned his attention back to Hertig.  
  
"Buckland is across the river," he explained. "They're Merry's family although Merry is also my nephew. They'll get you to Bree well enough. In the meantime, I will arrange for a bath and clean clothes for you. Not sure what we have that might fit, but perhaps the ladies can come up with something. At the very least, we can wash what you're wearing!" He stood up. "I will see you in the morning. Sleep well."  
  
Hertig bowed. "Thank you, sir," he replied gratefully and watched as the Thain strode from the room. A couple of hours later found him comfortably situated in a chamber deep within the Smials. The hobbits had laid thick cushions on the floor and found him at least a shirt large enough for him to sleep in while his clothes were cleaned. He felt much better than he had in a long time and began to hope that perhaps his mission would be successful.  
  
The next morning, after a filling breakfast, Ferdinand led Hertig through the deepest forests of the Green Hills towards the Stockbrook. This small river fed into the Brandywine and would be their guide to the river. They didn't dare take the Stock Road as Men often patrolled there. Neither Hertig nor his hobbit guide spoke much. Ferdinand was constantly watching for any sign of ruffians lurking about. It was still cold and drizzly, so he was fairly confident that their numbers would be few. Hertig was still weary, but eager to be free of the Shire.  
  
The two traveled quickly and by nightfall, they had reached the banks of the Brandywine. They had spied several scouting parties of Lotho's men, but had managed to avoid being seen. "Can you swim?" Ferdinand whispered as the carefully surveyed the banks of the river. Although Hertig had little experience with water, he was able to swim reasonably well. Ferdinand nodded. "Good. The water is not too swift here," he explained, "Saradoc usually has a few men stationed along the river keeping watch. I'm not too fond of swimming myself, but I'll go over with you and see to your safe passage."  
  
The two then cautiously made their way to the river. It was dark now and as the two removed their clothing, Hertig could feel the bitter wind bite his bare flesh. The water would be even worse. Fortunately, it wasn't a difficult passage and soon the two were safely on the on the other side. As Ferdinand had hoped, they were soon intercepted by one of the many Brandybucks living in the area. With Ferdinand along to explain things, it wasn't long before Hertig and his guide, Ilberic were on their way to Bree. Now, if only he could get there in time.  
  
--------------------------------------------- It was early in the morning when Hertig and Ilberic spied Bree in the distance. They had been traveling nonstop a day and a night, so urgent was Hertig's errand. They moved silently and cautiously as Ilberic worried about brigands and footpads that frequented the area around Bree. "I will leave you here," said the hobbit as they ate a scant breakfast. "I don't like leaving my family alone during these bad times and I think you should be able to reach the town by this afternoon with no trouble. The robbers avoid the daylight." Hertig nodded and after thanking his guide, the Rider set out along the Great East Road to Bree.  
  
It was well past noon when Hertig finally made his exhausted way into the town of Bree. The gatekeeper stared at him suspiciously but as Hertig did not seem to be armed, he let him pass. Now that he was in Bree, Hertig was unsure of where to go. He asked the gatekeeper if there were any inns nearby and he was directed to the Prancing Pony. The Thain had kindly provided Hertig with a small amount of coin and Hertig hoped to get a least a hot meal at the inn. Perhaps there would be news of Frodo there as well.  
  
It was a friendly, comfortable looking inn and Hertig felt instantly at ease. It had been a long time since he had felt that way. With a sigh, he settled himself at a table with a pint of ale and waited for his meal. A round-faced blustery sort of fellow approached his table, "Good afternoon, sir," said the man trying to sound friendly, but peering at Hertig apprehensively. "I've not seen you round these parts before. Come far have you?"  
  
Hertig smiled up at the innkeeper. "Aye, I've come very far and I am hoping to meet up with some friends here or at least hear news of them. Do you know anything of Frodo Baggins or perhaps his cousins, Pippin Took or Merry Brandybuck?"  
  
Butterbur the innkeeper stared at the man in open-mouthed surprise. Frodo had arrived just the previous night along with his cousins and Gandalf the Wizard. He wasn't sure if he should mention them or not. "Well, I can't rightly say, sir," he hedged, "Might I know your name so I can tell them if I see them?"  
  
Hertig glanced at the innkeeper then shrugged. "If you should see them, please tell them Hertig of Rohan is here and has news of their friend, Samwise Gamgee."  
  
"Samwise Gamgee?" repeated Butterbur with a frown. "Now what does that remind me of? Nob!" he cried suddenly to the hobbit standing near the doorway. "What does the name Samwise Gamgee remind me of?"  
  
Nob reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. This he handed to his employer. "He's the one wanted in Hobbiton," replied Nob.  
  
"Ah yes! That's right! Some o' those rabble from the Shire demanded we put this up in the inn. I took it to avoid trouble, but I surely wasn't going to help the likes o' them!" He handed Hertig Sam's wanted poster. Hertig's face grew very grim. He knew the hobbit in Michel Delving had said this would happen, but it was very disturbing to see it in print. It must have been created before he escaped he noticed, seeing his own name on the list.  
  
"May I keep this?" he asked the innkeeper.  
  
Butterbur nodded. "And, should I see Master Baggins or the others, I'll tell them you're here!" The innkeeper then turned and scurried from the room. He looked back and watched for a moment as Hertig studied the poster and absently shoveled food into his mouth. Butterbur then continued on to the private parlor where he knew Frodo and the others to be enjoying a late luncheon.  
  
"Excuse me, Master Baggins," he said a little breathlessly as he entered the room. Frodo, Pippin, and Merry looked up from their plates. Gandalf had gone off for awhile.  
  
"Hello, Master Butterbur!" smiled Frodo. "Everything is fine here!" His cousins, their mouths full, simply nodded in agreement.  
  
"Uh, that's wonderful, sir," said Butterbur glancing back over his shoulder. "But I have news for you. There's a strange gentleman out in the common room lookin' for you and your cousins here. A tall, thin fellow with long blonde hair. I've never seen the like!"  
  
The hobbits stopped eating and stared at Butterbur in confusion. "Did this man give his name?" asked Frodo in surprise.  
  
Butterbur nodded. "Aye, he said his name was, um, Hertig from Rohan and that he had news o' your friend, Samwise Gamgee. Does that make any sense?"  
  
With a crash of chairs, the three hobbits leapt to their feet and crowded around the startled innkeeper. "Where is this man?" demanded Frodo excitedly. "We must see him right away!"  
  
"Certainly, certainly!" replied Butterbur in relief. "I'll bring him right in. He's just in the next room. He was most eager to see you!" With that, the innkeeper disappeared through the door.  
  
"Why would Hertig still be here?" wondered Merry as he set his chair back in place. "I should think he would have returned to Edoras long ago!"  
  
Before either Frodo or Pippin could reply, Butterbur returned with a tall, thin man in tow. The man's long hair was tied back and his face looked thin and worn. He bowed to the hobbits politely.  
  
"Excuse me for intruding," said the Rider quietly, "But, I have important news for you and hoped to find you before you left for the Shire."  
  
Frodo eyed the man for a moment then turned to Butterbur, "Thank you, sir," he said. "I think we will be alright now." For a moment the innkeeper looked as if he might say something, but then he gave a small bow and left the room. "Please," said Frodo pointing to an empty chair, "Sit down. We are most anxious to hear your news!"  
  
With a nod of thanks, Hertig sat down and looked at the eager faces before him. "I am thankful I was able to find you before you left for the Shire. I have much to tell you." With a sigh, he told them of how he and Sam had been captured shortly after arriving in the Shire and of his own imprisonment in the Lockholes and subsequent escape. "I worried about Sam a great deal," he said taking a swig of the ale placed before him, "We learned that the so-called "Chief" was making Sam work as a virtual slave in his gardens. Then, something happened, and Sam killed one of the ruffians and disappeared. We heard nothing for a long time about his whereabouts until some rebels from someplace called the hills of Scary were captured. One of them told us that Sam had joined them, but had not been captured. It was after the remaining rebels started burning bridges that these started to appear." Here, he paused, pulled out the poster and handed it to Frodo. Pippin and Merry gathered round to study it as well.  
  
Frodo's face went chalky white as he read the contents of the flyer. "Execute the Cottons!?" he whispered in abject horror. "Kill Rosie!?" He stared at his cousins in disbelief. They all knew that Sam adored Rosie. If anything happened to her, Sam would never forgive himself. And yet, if Sam did turn himself in, there was no doubt of his fate. Frodo looked at the date on the flyer. The first execution was set for October 29th. That very day.  
  
Frodo stood up and stumbled over to the fire burning brightly in the grate. His head was spinning. All this time he had assumed Sam was safe and sound in the Shire and now he comes to find Sam a wanted criminal and no doubt condemned to death if captured! If he didn't turn himself in, then others would die in his place. Frodo slammed his fist against the fireplace in rage and frustration! If only he had gone after Sam in the first place none of this would have happened! Now, it might be too late to save his friend. They must leave for Hobbiton immediately if there was to be any hope of rescue. Frodo closed his eyes a leaned his aching head against the mantel. They would either save Sam's life or avenge his murder. 


	27. An Interview with a Wizard

Well guys, here is another update, but it may be the last one for awhile. I am leaving for a 7 day Alaskan cruise on Saturday and trying to get ahead on my 2 summer school courses, so may not have time to do much writing between now and Sat. Hate to leave you hanging for so long (and this chapter doesn't solve anything!), but such is life! Maybe I'll get one more up before I go, but I won't promise anything. Thanks again to all my wonderful readers and reviewers! I'm going to be sorry when this story ends!  
  
Bronwyn: Well, I wish I could say that this answers your questions about Rosie, but ...not yet! LOL!  
  
Sams friend: Welcome! Thank you so much for reviewing and I'm glad you like it so far! Hopefully, the rest of the story will be equally as enjoyable!  
  
Althea: This chapter, I'm afraid, will only answer one of your questions! I'm glad Hertig made it, too. It was time for him to get out of the lockholes and do something constructive!  
  
Merimas Gamgee: Here is the first step in the gradual path to the end of this story! Don't think it will ease your mind any!  
  
Hobbity: Yeah, Frodo is quite upset. Here it was he though Sam nice and safe in the Shire only to find out he's in big trouble! Just one more excuse for angst!  
  
Lauralsjr: Hmm, about your assumption, well...I wouldn't count on it necessarily being correct! LOL! Wouldn't want things to be TOO predictable now would we? After this chapter, we should be seeing a lot more of the others.  
  
Gamgeefest: Butterbur always amused me, too! I'm afraid Rosie's fate is still a mystery in this chapter.  
  
Janna Hawkins: The others aren't in this chapter but should return again in the next. As for Rosie...well I'm afraid this chapter won't help you!  
  
Wolfs Pen: Thank you so much for your reviews! I'm really glad you like my story so much! I hope you'll keep reading and that the rest of the story lives up to your expectations!  
  
Well, now, on with the chapter...  
  
Chapter 27 An Interview with a Wizard  
  
Sam's grief was finally spent and he sat numbly, gazing into the fire. The others sat nearby watching him apprehensively, but Sam barely even noticed their presence. He looked down at the paper in his hand and absently traced the letters of Rosie's name as he considered his next move. Well, there was no doubt what he must do, really. He must leave immediately and turn himself in. The others had argued against this saying that Sam himself would be killed, but that hardly mattered anymore, did it? In fact, he almost looked forward to it. What did he have left to live for? Rosie had been killed because of him and Mister Frodo certainly didn't want him around. His Gaffer would be alright. Sam had enough siblings to look after the elderly hobbit. But most importantly, if he didn't go, others would die because of him. He pictured little Olwyn and Eldred playing outside their cottage in Rohan. Could he possibly live with himself if he let their father die? Of course not. Nor could he live with himself if he let anything happen to the rest of the Cottons. He had grown up with the Cotton boys and Mr. and Mrs. Cotton had always treated Sam as one of their own. No, his course was clear. He must leave immediately.  
  
Sam stood up and turned to his friends. "I must go now," he said faintly. "There's nothing else for it. If I don't go, others will die and I won't live with that on my conscious." He wiped the tears from his face and smiled at the mournful faces watching him. "Don't be sad, lads," he said, "We've had a good run and made things a bit more difficult for old Pimple and Sharkey. We've shown 'em that not all hobbits are willing to lie down and give up!" Then, one by one, Sam embraced his companions, giving each words of encouragement and farewell.  
  
"Sam, please!" begged Tamblin one last time. "Maybe we could go in and rescue the hostages! Don't give yourself up to those villains!"  
  
Sam just shook his head. "No," he replied, "I won't risk another life. I've seen so much of this world destroyed, but watching them butcher the Shire has been the worst of all. Too many innocent people have died this past year and I will do what I can to stop the killin' of any more." He sighed deeply and looked away. "I'm tired, Tamblin," he whispered. "I'm tired to the very depths o' my soul and I can't take it any more. I'm ready for the pain to end."  
  
Tears ran down Tamblin's face as he embraced his friend one last time. "Go in peace, then Samwise Gamgee," he said quietly. "We will never forget you." He then turned away and rejoined the others. Sam took one final look around the small cavern, then carefully folding the paper and placing it in his pocket, he slowly departed. He must reach Hobbiton before morning, he thought wearily, or another victim may be executed.  
  
The night was cold and wet. It had been raining heavily for the past few days making the path difficult. Sam made his way down through the hills of Scary and finally to the road leading south. The going was a bit easier there, and he made good time. It was dawn when the village of Hobbiton finally appeared in the distance. Sam slumped down against a rock, exhausted. He had practically run all the way and his legs were like lead. "Only a little further, Sam", he thought to himself as he greedily drank from a waterskin. "Then, all of this will be over". He rested for just a few minutes, then with a groan lurched to his feet and continued on.  
  
"Hey! You!" Sam had gone just a short ways down the road when a harsh voice cried out behind him. The weary hobbit stopped and turned finding a couple of ruffians striding towards him. One of them he instantly recognized as Bill Ferny. "Well, well, well!" smirked Ferny stopping before Sam. "If it ain't our brave little rebel! Come to turn yerself in, 'ave you Mister Gamgee? Too bad! We was plannin' on 'aving some more fun today! But just the same, I'm sure the Boss has some fine entertainment planned for you!" His companion laughed, nodding enthusiastically. Then, Ferny grabbed Sam's collar and roughly shoved him to the ground. "I don't think we want you tryin' any funny stuff," he snarled and quickly tied Sam's hands tightly behind him. Pulling Sam back to his feet, Ferny whispered, "And don't think I've fergotten that apple back in Bree, ye little Shire-rat. Ye'll pay for that it I have any say in it!"  
  
The two men pushed Sam ahead of them and hurried on to Sharkey's hut. The Boss would be most pleased with them and they were eager to bring their prisoner to him as soon as possible. Ferny knocked on the hut door, knowing that even at this early hour, the Boss would be awake. The door opened slowly and Wormtongue peered out suspiciously. "What is it?" he hissed.  
  
Ferny pushed Sam forward. "Tell the Boss we caught in infamous Samwise Gamgee!" Wormtongue squinted at the despondent hobbit before him, then nodded.  
  
"Wait here." Saruman's lackey disappeared into the darkness of the hut. Ferny and his companion waited patiently for a few moments before the door reopened. "I was told to give this to you," said Wormtongue as he handed Ferny a purse full of coin. "As your reward.  
  
Ferny grinned at his friend and tossed the purse into the air. "We'd be grateful if you'd thank the Boss fer us," said Ferny with a small bow. "We was only doin' our duty!"  
  
Wormtongue stared at him in distaste then reached out and grabbed Sam by the arm dragging him into the hut. He looked back at Ferny. "Sharkey says to wait here. He will have need of you shortly." He then slammed the door in the surprised faces of the two men.  
  
Sam stood motionless inside the doorway, not even looking around. Wormtongue studied him for a moment, then shook his head. "You should not have come here, halfling," he mumbled shaking his head. "You are very foolish." Still, Sam said nothing.  
  
"Bring him here, Wormtongue," commanded a voice from across the room. Unresisting, Sam allowed himself to be pulled to where a tall man with a long white beard stood near the fire staring down at him. Something about this man seemed vaguely familiar to Sam.  
  
"So, you are Samwise Gamgee, companion to the Ringbearer and now Shire rebel, is that correct?" said the man with a tinge of amusement in his deep melodious voice.  
  
Sam frowned. What would this man know about the Ring? The man laughed at Sam's obvious confusion. "Oh, I know much about you and your so-called Fellowship of the Ring, my dear halfling," he sneered. "You do not recognize my face, I see, but perhaps you will recognize my name. I am Saruman."  
  
Sam flinched at the Istari's name and stared at Saruman in shock. "Th..the white wizard? From Isengard?"  
  
"That is correct," smiled Saruman coldly. "Your old friend, Gandalf allowed me my freedom after my downfall. After meeting your dear companions on the Road, I decided to hurry on ahead so that I could prepare a proper welcome for them when they returned to their beloved Shire."  
  
Sam frowned, feeling anger rise within him. "So you're the one responsible for all this destruction? Killin' the trees? Foulin" the water?"  
  
Saruman laughed out loud. It was a chilling sound. "It was indeed, Master Gamgee! It seems that it was quite acceptable for my home to be destroyed and yet, you little halflings come out of this without a scratch. I decided that perhaps it was time someone taught you a lesson." He studied Sam's furious face. "But, I think, capturing you will be the best of all. Killing other hobbits would certainly anger your companions, but imagine their dismay when they enter Hobbiton and find _your _body hanging from the gibbet! A much better welcome home gift don't you think? And such irony! You managed to survive the worst Mordor had to offer and yet find death in the supposed safety of your own home! I cannot imagine a more perfect ending!"  
  
Sam stood mute as the full horror of the situation engulfed him. He was just a pawn in this crazed wizard's lust for revenge. It was never really about stopping the rebels as much as it was about hurting Frodo and the others! He looked up as he heard the door open again and Bill Ferny entered. "I want you to take this halfling," said Saruman, his eyes glittering with amusement, "And do what you must to find out where the rest of the rebels are hiding. Spare no effort, just do not kill him. He will be executed later today, so work quickly."  
  
"Sure thing, Boss," replied Ferny giving Sam a sadistic grin. "I'll make sure there's enough fer you to hang!" Then laughing, he grabbed Sam and the two of them disappeared through the doorway.  
  
Saruman turned to Wormtongue and smiled triumphantly. "Yes, this is truly turning out better than even I had imagined!" 


	28. On the Road Home

Author's Note: I apologize for the lengthy period between updates! I just got back from my Alaskan cruise (it was FANTASTIC!) and then needed to get caught up with classwork that was due while I was gone. Not a whole lot happens in this chapter, but I did want to get back on track with the story after such a long time! I hope you enjoy it!  
  
Merimas gamgee: You're not supposed to like Saruman. I mean, he IS a bad guy after all! What kind of villain would he be if he were nice!?  
  
Aouramaiden: I'm sorry I couldn't get an update up sooner (I can assure you, I won't do it again!). If I didn't leave you hanging, maybe you wouldn't come back to see how it ends!  
  
Bronwyn: Yes, I did enjoy myself on the cruise immensely, thank you! And no, Ferny's words don't bode well! It will all become clear...eventually!  
  
Gamgeefest: Actually, Saruman couldn't care less where the other rebels are. He just was giving Ferny a reason to torture poor Sam! He's just such a sweetheart.  
  
Hobbity: Hmm. Hang Samwise...Well, I have killed off Sam before...so it's always possible! evil grin  
  
Baileymag: Here is our update on all our little hobbity friends. The cruise was great and the schoolwork is killing me (I really should be working on it instead of writing this, but I felt I owed it to my Faithful Readers to get a chapter up!)  
  
Laurajslr: I thought it was ironic as well. Poor Sam manages to survived the worst of Mordor, but finds himself in greater peril than ever at home! I have read your last three chapters, but haven't had time to review them, but will soon!  
  
Janna Hawkins: Well, we do know that Saruman gets his in the end, don't we!  
  
LalaithoftheBruinen: Glad you are still enjoying the story! Yes, life is hard for our intrepid heroes! Be a boring story if it wasn't!  
  
Althea: The cruise really was wonderful and I hated coming back to Reality! Sigh Anyway, here is my update, such as it is. Hopefully I'll get another one up by the weekend. I feel guilty keeping you guys hanging for so long.  
  
Sam: I'm so glad you liked Sam's departure speech. He's just so tired of all the bad things that keep happening to him and those around him. He wants it all to end.  
  
Well, thanks so much for all your wonderful reviews and your patience! You guys really are the best!  
  
Chapter 28 On the Road Home  
  
Frodo was anxious to leave immediately. He understood Sam better than anyone and knew his friend would give himself up in a heartbeat to rescue the Cottons. If indeed Rosie had already been executed, Frodo feared Sam would feel there was nothing left to live for. It pained him deeply to know that he had not yet had the chance to clear up the misunderstanding that had sent Sam away in the first place. If Sam died, Frodo would never forgive himself.  
  
Gandalf had arrived later that evening to find the hobbits packing their belongings intending to leave as soon as possible. He frowned deeply as he listened to Hertig's explanation of current events in the Shire.  
  
"We must leave now, Gandalf!" cried Frodo urgently. "I know Sam will turn himself in if he hasn't already and it is clear that this "Sharkey" will see him dead! We are Sam's only hope!"  
  
"Calm down, my dear Frodo," soothed Gandalf leading Frodo to a chair. "Yes, we will leave, but not tonight. The rain is coming down in torrents now and the road will be impassable. Besides, we must plan our actions carefully. It is clear that much evil has occurred in the Shire and if we are to save Samwise, we must not act in haste."  
  
Frodo sat for only a moment before regaining his feet. He paced the room in agitation. How could he wait any longer? Any further delay could be Sam's death sentence, but he knew Gandalf was right. If they went charging into Hobbiton with no plan, they might be Sharkey's next victims. And what was Lotho's role in all of this? Surely he wouldn't condone murder? Hertig didn't know what had happened to the Chief just that lately, little had been heard of him.  
  
Merry sat back down in his chair and was thinking hard. "I think we should enter the Shire using the same route that brought Hertig here," he said finally. "I know my family will help us."  
  
"And mine!" echoed Pippin eagerly. He had been more than pleased when Hertig described the Took's fight against Lotho's ruffians.  
  
Hertig looked from the two hobbits to the wizard. "The Thain felt that all that was needed was someone to lead the hobbits against the ruffians. The Tooks are currently bottled up in their land, but if the countryside could be raised to fight against the men, the Thain said the Tooks would rise as well. Then the ruffians would be surrounded."  
  
Gandalf nodded thoughtfully as he puffed on his pipe. He had a good idea who was behind this mischief but felt it was better to keep this thought to himself. In fact, he really had no intention in going into the Shire with Frodo and the others. It was time for them to fight their own battles. But, he would help them as long as possible. He looked up at the sound of Frodo's voice.  
  
"I abhor the thought of violence," began Frodo unhappily, "But we cannot allow these men to execute hobbits at will and continue to destroy the Shire! I believe we should go to the Brandybucks and get their support, then try and raise the hobbits to fight against the invaders. But, that still doesn't solve the problem of rescuing Sam!"  
  
"Once the battle has begun," replied Merry turning to his cousin, "Perhaps at least one or two of us can slip away to Hobbiton and rescue Sam. There will certainly be a lot of distraction and maybe that will delay any further executions."  
  
Frodo nodded slowly. He had no doubt in his mind who that someone would be. As Sam had braved an army of orcs to rescue Frodo from Cirith Ungol, so would he risk his life to save Sam's. He would fight if he must, but his first responsibility was to his friend and savior, Samwise Gamgee. Fighting was better left up to Gandalf and the others.  
  
The next morning, was still dark and raining. The road was a sea of mud but it was impossible to wait any longer. The going would be slow enough as it was. Pippin looked at their small ragtag group and was suddenly glad to have the wizard and the tall Rider with them. He had seen his fair share of fighting during this past year, but it was still easy to fall into old patterns and let the big people help them. But such was not to be.  
  
The party had decided to stay on the road until the last possible moment knowing that traveling through the woods would only slow them down further. It was still raining and the travelers huddled in their cloaks trying to keep at least a little dry. Their thoughts were all far away, focused on the Shire and Sam, not on their journey. In their concern for their friend, they had forgotten Butterbur's warning of thieves and cutthroats on the road and as they had not been bothered before, they weren't worried now. That was a mistake.  
  
Frodo sat miserably on his pony, his dark thoughts bringing him little comfort in the raw wind. He feared they would be too late and he could not accept that fact. His brooding was suddenly interrupted by an unexpected cry of pain and alarm. Sitting up straighter, Frodo whirled around just in time to see Hertig fall from his horse, an arrow quivering in his chest. "Hertig!" he cried trying to turn his pony towards the Rider, but a moment later, a large, dark-cloaked figure leapt from the woods and grabbed the pony's bridle. Several more such men grabbed for the other horses bringing them to a halt.  
  
The hobbits stared in shock and surprise at the hooded men. Gandalf had dismounted and knelt by Hertig in the mud. He seemed oblivious to the interlopers. Merry regained his senses first. "Who are you?" he demanded angrily staring at the man nearest to him. "I demand that you let us go!"  
  
The men laughed harshly. "Why should we care what a little pipsqueak like yourself wants?" replied the man leaning closer. "If yer foolish enough to travel these roads, then you and yer friends here will have to pay the toll. No one rides through here for free!"  
  
Merry glowered at the man, exchanged glances with Pippin and without a word between them, the cousins drew their swords and threw back their cloaks displaying their armor. The men drew back slightly in alarm. This was certainly not what they had expected! Three hobbits and an old man seemed easy pickings once the apparent bodyguard had been eliminated. It would appear that they were mistaken. The men studied the two armed hobbits more closely now and realized they were much bigger than the standard Halflings and had a fearless look in their eyes that was quite disturbing.  
  
However, the man nearest Merry quickly recovered and snarling, lunged at the hobbit with a knife. With a cry of fury, Merry parried, his blade slashing deeply into the man's arm, causing him to drop his weapon. The bandit screamed in pain and fell back clutching his wound, blood dripping from between his white fingers. Pippin moved menacingly towards his own captor who immediately let go of the pony and backpedaled quickly avoiding the sharp point of Pippin's sword. Pippin rode forward with a yell causing the startled men to bolt for the woods. They were bullies at heart and not keen on attacking anyone that might fight back.  
  
The hobbits defiantly watched as the men fled before them, then they quickly dismounted to join Gandalf where he knelt by the fallen Rider. Hertig's face was grey and drawn with pain, but he said nothing. He grimaced in agony as Gandalf deftly pulled out the black-fletched arrow, then quickly placed a makeshift bandage over the wound to staunch the flow of crimson blood. Hertig's eyes were closed now, his breathing ragged as he fought for control over the pain. Gandalf turned to his companions.  
  
"You three must go on by yourselves now," he said quietly. "If Hertig is to survive, I must return with him to Bree where he may receive proper care. " "But Gandalf!" cried Pippin in alarm, "How can we do this alone!? We thought you would be there to help us!"  
  
Gandalf smiled fondly at the young hobbit. "Pippin, my dear hobbit," he said laying a hand on Pippin's shoulder. "Just this very moment you have proved yourselves more than up to the task. Did you not chase away several desperate bandits a moment ago? You have been preparing for this task for a year now and it is up to you three to save the Shire and your friends. My work in Middle Earth is complete and you must look to yourselves now. I will be better used taking our friend here to safety."  
  
The hobbits watched forlornly as Gandalf lifted Hertig and settled him onto the back of Shadowfax, then mounted behind to hold the Rider steady. Gandalf looked down at them and smiled, "Good luck, my friends," he said encouragingly, "We will meet again!" With that, he turned Shadowfax and headed back towards Bree, leading Hertig's horse behind them.  
  
They continued to watch as Gandalf rode away, then turned to each other when he was no longer in view. "We must get going," said Frodo firmly. "If we are to save Sam and the Shire, there is no more time to be lost. Gandalf is right. We can do this by ourselves." With shouts of agreement, the hobbits quickly remounted their ponies and hurried on down the road. Their course was set.  
  
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx  
  
As Sam slowly regained consciousness, the first thing he was aware of was a odd, metallic taste his mouth. It puzzled him at first, but it was soon followed by throbbing pain and memories of the last few hours came flooding back to him. He was lying on a cold, rough wooden floor and it was dark now. He had no idea how long Ferny had beaten and tortured him in his supposed quest for information. Sam knew Saruman didn't care about the other rebels. He was just giving Ferny a reason to abuse Sam. As if the man needed one, thought Sam grimly. It was obvious that Ferny would be delighted to torture anyone just for the sheer enjoyment of it. Sam grimaced in pain as he shifted his position. He could barely open his eyes, they were so badly bruised and swollen and pain seemed to emanate from every pore. He knew there were broken bones but he couldn't sort out one kind of pain from another. Good think they're goin' to kill me soon, though Sam with a pained laugh. "Best reward they could give me now!"  
  
How long he lay there shivering in the darkness letting his mind drift in and out of consciousness, he couldn't say. But he was abruptly brought to his senses when the door was pulled open with a loud bang. Blearily, Sam tried to focus on the figure in the doorway. He stiffened in alarm as he recognized Bill Ferny. It must be time.  
  
"Well, maggot," sneered Ferny dripping rain onto the battered hobbit as he stood over him. "Good news! You've got a reprieve! The Boss says he wants as big a crowd as possible for yer hangin' and with the late hour and rain, he's decided to wait until tomorrow!" He squatted down next to Sam and gripped the hobbit's face painfully forcing Sam to look at him. "Ain't you the lucky one!" Ferny continued with an ugly leer. "That means you an' me get to spend a few more hours together! An' you thought the Boss didn't have no heart!"  
  
Sam closed his eyes in resignation as Ferny reached down and grabbed Sam's arm, pulling him to his feet. The last sounds Sam heard were Ferny's harsh, sadistic laughter and the bang of the door as it slammed shut on the outside world. It would be a very long night. 


	29. The Travelers Return

Author's Note: Just to clarify the timing here (someday, I should rewrite parts of this to make it clearer). Sam's time was ahead of Frodo's. Frodo got the message the day before Sam on Oct 29. This chapter takes place primarily during the days where Sam surrendered (Oct 30) and his enjoying fun and games with Bill Ferny (Nov 1). Thus, we will not see Sam in this chapter so Frodo can catch up in time. Next time, I must think these things out more clearly! What a pain!  
  
Laurajslr: Thank you so much for your patience (at least I had several updates for your story upon my return yay!). Well, you know, I thought it was time for Hertig to earn his paycheck. I mean, for weeks he's done nothing but sit around the Lockholes doing nothing! You will learn his fate eventually!  
  
Baileymag: Well, we should be seeing more of all our hobbity friends in the next few chapters. Now, that the action is in Hobbiton, that's where everyone needs to be!  
  
Nymredil72: You know, I did seriously think about leaving Gandalf in, but I decided that he would have left them given the circumstances. He knew his time for helping was over and he had just seen that the hobbits were not the wimpy little creatures that had started out on the quest. If he had not left with Hertig, the Rider would certainly die, so he had to go. I also decided, like Tolkien, that it was time for the hobbits to take care of themselves and after all they had been through, I thought they could do it! I hope you have a great time on your vacation (wish mine had been longer!)! I hope this update was quick enough!  
  
A fan: Welcome and thank you so much for reading and reviewing my story! Unfortunately, there are too many people in the real world like Bill Ferny. At least in my story, he's fictional (and thus fun to hate!). I hope you continue to enjoy the story!  
  
RenaissanceGrrl: Welcome back! Here is the next update just in time! As for your most recent and excellent comments and reviews: In my map book, they have it written Tuckburrow, but in the book, it is Tuckborough. I tried to be consistent, but I must have missed some. As for the clothes, it is more difficult to swim with soaking wet clothes on. They absorb water and weigh you down. If you don't have to swim too far, you're better off carrying them (plus, they'll be drier when you put them on, thus conserving body heat). No, I don't think you could get from Bree to Hobbiton in a day (it's about 90 miles). Thus, in this story, it will take two days. Anyway, glad to have you back!  
  
Merimas Gamgee: Fear not, I would never leave a story unfinished! It would drive me nuts! I felt badly about having to take so long to update. I really wanted the Hobbits to handle this on their own. After all, this is when they really grow up. Thus, it was necessary to get Gandalf and Hertig out of the picture.  
  
Althea: I'm glad you agree! I really felt this was the hobbits' responsibility and Gandalf and Hertig would run the show if they were still around. Since it had been so long, I felt you guys deserved updates on everybody!  
  
Bronwyn: It's good to be back (although I am really swamped and should be catching up on schoolwork rather than writing fanfiction! But, guess which is more fun! Lol). I did want to let you know how everyone was doing this time.  
  
Lalaithofthebruinen: Well, you're right actually, more did happen than I realized. I'm glad it was a satisfying chapter after such a long time!  
  
Sam: At this point, Sam doesn't really care what happens to him. He thinks there's nothing left for him, so being hung doesn't seem like such a bad thing. Poor Sam... BTW, I wasn't confused, I figure these computers are always doing weird things (plus, it was two reviews for the price of one!)  
  
Janna Hawkins: I heartily agree. Ferny should have someone wring his scrawny little neck. What a maggot!  
  
BloodRoses9: LOL! Well, I will try to not make him too girly (was I?), but keeping true to Tolkien, Frodo absolutely did not want to fight. So, I do have to keep that in mind. But, maybe he'll toughen up a little!  
  
OK guys, here is the next installment. I do believe we are slowly but surely approaching the end of this looooooong story! I hope you enjoy! Thanks to you all!  
  
Chapter 29 The Travelers Return  
  
Onward Frodo, Merry, and Pippin rode. Frodo's sense of urgency grew with each passing moment and he would brook no delay. The ponies gave it their all until finally Merry cried out, "Frodo! We must stop and rest! The horses are almost all played out! If we do not let them rest and eat, we'll never get to Brandy Hall!" Reluctantly, Frodo agreed pulling his exhausted pony to a halt, the poor animal's sides were heaving and his flanks flecked with foam.  
  
They led the animals off the road and to a small stream nearby. Merry and Pippin pulled out oats for the horses and watched apprehensively as Frodo paced impatiently. He understood the need for the stop, but it ate at him. He rubbed his hand over his aching eyes. He was exhausted himself, having slept but little the night before. His worries would allow him no rest.  
  
Merry finally came over and placed a comforting hand on his cousin's shoulder. "Frodo, you must eat as well. If we are to be of any help to Sam, we must be strong. We have a long road ahead of us still." Frodo sighed and nodded. He allowed himself to be led to where Pippin had pulled out food for their meal. Frodo had little appetite and the bread was like sawdust in his mouth, but he knew Merry was right. He just worried that they were already too late.  
  
After they had given the ponies time to rest and eat, the three remounted and continued on. Although it was still cold and wet, the torrential rain had let up and they were able to make better time. It was evening and darkness had settled over the land when they finally left the road to travel through the woodlands. They still had many miles to travel before reaching Brandy Hall, but Frodo would not even consider stopping for the night.  
  
Merry knew these woods well having spent much of his youth exploring their paths and hills. He found himself growing more and more eager to reach his home and his family. They traveled in silence, the only sound the dripping of the rain from the trees and the muffled sound of the ponies hooves on the wet leaves. It was nearing midnight when the weary hobbits were halted by the sound of a voice and two dark figures stepping out onto the path before them. One held a dark lantern up, and opening its door gasped in surprise upon seeing the faces of the three mounted hobbits. "Merry!" he cried.  
  
"Merroc!" replied Merry in delight, sliding off his horse to embrace his cousin. "Are we ever glad to see you!" He turned to the other hobbit, "Ilberic!" he grinned, clasping his other cousin's arm.  
  
Ilberic grinned back. "I guess that giant from Rohan found you all right! Nice fellow, him. He didn't come with you?"  
  
Merry's face grew grim. "He was wounded by bandits on the road. Gandalf returned with him to Bree."  
  
Unable to keep still any longer Frodo looked anxiously to the newcomers. "Is there any word on Samwise Gamgee's fate? Has he been captured? What of the Cottons?"  
  
Merroc shook his head sadly. "We don't get much news from Hobbiton here," he replied. "The river keeps the ruffians away, but it also keeps us isolated. I don't know if they've captured him or not. As for the Cottons, we heard tell one was executed, but that's all. I'm sorry."  
  
Frodo sighed in frustration and anguish. Where was Sam and who had been executed? His reverie was interrupted by Pippin pulling on Frodo's sleeve. "Come on," he said, "We're going to Brandy Hall." So saying, the five hobbits continued their way through the woods until finally, in the wee hours of the morning, reached Merry's home. Merroc had raced on ahead to prepare for them and they were met at the main door of Brandy Hall by Merry's parents, Saradoc and Esmeralda Brandybuck.  
  
"Merry!" cried Esmeralda hurrying forward to embrace her wayward son. With a cry of delight, Merry leapt from his horse and hugged his tiny mother to him. She stepped back and looked at him in amazement. "Merry! You've grown!" Merry just laughed and hugged her tighterr.  
  
Saradoc joined them a moment later, clapping his son on the shoulder. "That Rider fellow told us something of your adventures," he said looking his son up and down, admiring his armor and sword. "Seems he weren't exaggerating!" He then looked over to Frodo and Pippin. "Frodo Baggins! Peregrine Took!" he greeted them. "Come in, come in! You all look like half-drowned cats! Esmeralda, let's get some food and warm clothes for these weary travelers!" He ushered them all into the Hall.  
  
Frodo, Merry, and Pippin felt much better with dry clothes and warm food. They sat in one of Brandy Hall's many parlors before a roaring fire. "We cannot allow this Sharkey to run things in the Shire any longer," Merry was saying to his father. "Hertig told us of the things happening here and we must do something."  
  
Saradoc nodded slowly puffing on his pipe. "Aye son," he growled, "You're right enough there. Trouble is, no one's been brave enough to fight back. Oh, the Thain made a stand early on, true enough, but the Chief's men have got them trapped in the Green Hill country now." He now studied his son thoughtfully. Merry was much changed from his travels. There was a maturity and determination that certainly hadn't been there before. He saw it in Pippin as well. Frodo was more of a puzzle. It was obvious the master of Bag End was not the same hobbit as before, but Saradoc sensed in him a deep and haunting pain. His attention turned to Pippin as the young hobbit spoke.  
  
"We want to raise the Shire," Pippin said leaning forward. "I know the Tooks will take part. But, as you say, it will take more than just my family. We need everyone!"  
  
"But, we must also get to Hobbiton as quickly as possible," interjected Frodo tersely, looking up from the fire. "We must save Sam and the Cottons!"  
  
Saradoc continued to think. It would take Pippin all day to reach Tuckburrow and it was a good forty miles from Brandy Hall to Hobbiton. It would take time to raise even the Brandybucks and make it all the way to Bywater to meet up with the Tooks. Hopefully, they could gather more hobbits on the way, but if they were forced to fight, that would delay them even further. The older hobbit glanced at Frodo's anxious face. Well, the only way they could hope to save Sam, if he were still alive, was to send someone on ahead. He knew that someone would be Frodo. Saradoc now knew that Merry and Pippin would have to be the ones to lead the attack. They had a military bearing now that would inspire others. It was time to make plans.  
  
As daylight slowly illuminated the forest around them, Frodo watched as Pippin and a few Brandybucks rode towards the river. The Brandybucks had small boats to ferry them across the river and then they would make their way to Tuckborough. Men controlled the ferry and Pippin wished to avoid any confrontations. The young hobbit hoped to gather the Tooks and meet the others near Bywater. Time was of the essence!  
  
There was much excitement in Brandy Hall that morning. Merry and Pippin's numerous relations were much taken by their new appearance and when Merry had announced their intentions to take back the Shire, there had been great cheers of enthusiasm. Although the Brandybucks had been mostly immune to the troubles plaguing the rest of the Shire by virtue of their location across the Brandywine, they were more than ready to fight back.  
  
Merry's plan was to head north and pick up the Great East Road, then march directly to Hobbiton. It would be impossible to hide so many hobbits plus he wanted everyone to know what was going on. They were through hiding now and he was determined to oust these interlopers once and for all. He fingered the beautiful horn of Rohan. Its call would sound a new beginning for the people of the Shire.  
  
Frodo had other plans. He knew any military operations were best left up to his cousins. Although Sting hung faithfully at his side, Frodo had no intentions of ever wielding the small blade every again if he could possibly help it. He had seen enough death this past year. But, if there were no other options, he would use it, but only to save Sam. He hoped it wouldn't come to that. When Pippin and his followers disappeared, Frodo turned and entered Brandy Hall where Merry was busy organizing his troop. Merry looked up at his cousin's approach.  
  
"You're going?" he asked quietly moving away from the chaos around them.  
  
Frodo nodded heavily. "I must. I cannot wait here any longer. It will take me all day to reach Hobbiton as it is. Unlike you, I dare not move openly. I realize it may be too late for Sam, but I must try."  
  
"You know Pippin and I would have gladly accompanied you," said Merry with a worried look.  
  
"Yes, I know," smiled Frodo sadly, "But you and Pippin are the only ones who can raise the Shire. You have your own work cut out for you. I am not fit for much, but Sam risked everything for me time and time again. It is the very least I can do for him."  
  
Merry sighed. This was certainly not the homecoming he had envisioned. "Well, at least let Merroc go with you. I suspect it will take more than one person to save Sam."  
  
Frodo shook his head. "No, I will not be responsible for anyone else's life but my own this time. I will go alone."  
  
Looking unhappy, Merry simply nodded. He knew he would not be able to sway Frodo in this. He looked into Frodo's wan face and with an encouraging smile embraced his cousin. Frodo then picked up his pack and with one last look at Merry, turned and left. Sam's rescue would be entirely in Frodo's hands   
  
Night had long since fallen by the time Frodo spotted the lights of Bywater. He had traveled nonstop since morning, keeping well away from the road. But, he had seen enough of the destruction the ruffians had wrought throughout the Shire to make him ill. Destroyed homes, felled trees, gave him a preview of what he could expect in Hobbiton. Again he wondered how Pippin and Merry were faring. Had they managed to rouse the usually passive hobbits into action? They were the Shire's only hope.  
  
Frodo halted on the outskirts of town. There were fewer lights than he would have expected. The Green Dragon had been closed down and many of the quaint hobbit holes and homes had been destroyed. He had seen ugly shacks put up in their place but few lights shone there. No hobbits were about by night and he avoided any Men he saw. They were a surly, coarse lot and Frodo knew he must not allow them to see him.  
  
He decided to travel along the edge of The Water rather than take the Bywater Road through town. He could possibly cross near Sandyman's mill. He was trying to figure out how he would find Sam. Frodo knew the Lockholes were in Michel Delving, but according to the flyer, the executions were supposed to be in Hobbiton.  
  
Turning a curve in the river as it approached the mill, Frodo froze in his tracks, his mouth open in shock. The mill was still there, true enough, but it was hardly the small, picturesque mill of Frodo's memories. This one was more like a huge, hulking monster crouching over the river ready to attack. Frodo could now smell the choking smoke pouring from its chimney and looking into the water, he could make out an oily sludge covering the surface. Here, the windows were bright with light and the night was filled with the sound of grinding gears and screeching metal. It was truly a nightmare. But, that was not the worst of it. As Frodo silently crept forward, he could make out a form silhouetted against one of the large mill windows. He frowned trying to make it out. Abruptly, as if someone had doused him with freezing cold water, Frodo gasped and stumbled backwards. It had just become clear what he was seeing. There, hanging from a makeshift gallows, was a small body silently spinning in the cold, night breeze. He was too late. The executions had begun. 


	30. A Reason to Live

Author's Note: I have a paper due at the end of this week, so I wanted to get this update out as I really need to concentrate on that for the next few days (darn it!). So, I didn't want to leave you hanging any longer! I hope you enjoy the chapter!  
  
Nymredil27: I had to ignore Sam in the last chapter because I needed to get Frodo caught up in time! However, this chapter is all Sam, so that should make you happy!  
  
BloodRoses9: I tried to get this up as quickly as possible to save you from harming yourself! Hope I was in time!  
  
Janna Hawkins: This chapter holds the answer to your question!  
  
Merimas Gamgee: (blush) you say the nicest things! I'm so glad you like my stories! I try to keep them interesting and not too obvious! Now, I'm curious – was your guess right?  
  
Althea: I went to the Ferny School of Heartlessness. That's how! Anyway, I hope this chapter answers some of your questions!  
  
AouraMaiden: Read on and you shall find out!  
  
Lauralsjr: Well, the paper said the executions would begin and so they did. Saruman is punctual like that! I'm glad you find my story suspenseful – guess that means I'm doing something right! LOL! As for holidays, no, but summer school is really heating up with a couple of big projects looming in the near future! So, I shall update as quickly as possible (shouldn't be many more chapters anyway). And thanks, I did have a great time on my cruise!  
  
Brownwyn: Again, the answer to your burning question lies in the words of this chapter! (Thought the pun was funny, btw!)  
  
LalaithoftheBruinen: Thank you for your kind words! I'm really glad you liked the chapter. I tried to update as quickly as I could!  
  
Arwen Baggins: Great to see you back! Wondered where you had disappeared to! I hope you'll make it through to the end! Just forget about work!  
  
Baileymag: Wow, I am really flattered that you think so highly of this chapter! It's wonderful readers like yourself that really inspire me and make this so much fun! Every time I swear I have written my last Sam story, I think of all of you guys and next thing I know, I'm off torturing poor Sam again (There! It's all your fault he has such a tough time!). I hope you like this next chapter as well!  
  
Chapter 30 A Reason to Live  
  
It had been one of the longest nights of Sam's life. Miserably, he lay huddled in the corner of the shack, his body wracked with agonizing tremors. He was so cold and the shock from his injuries made things worse. He was too far gone to even scream anymore and his tormenter had become bored. Ferny now sat on a stool across the room, a nearly empty bottle clutched in his hand. He was drunk.  
  
"Well, maggot," Ferny slurred lifting his bottle in salute, "Jus' a few more hours, then it's the end fer you!" he made a hanging motion and laughed. "Mebbe if you beg me hard enough, I can ask the Boss to delay a bit longer!"  
  
Sam stared at him blankly. "I welcome death," he whispered faintly.  
  
Ferny frowned. Sam had said this before and it bothered him. What fun would it be to kill someone if that's what they wanted? Ferny much preferred his victims to plead and fight. It made his victory so much more satisfying.  
  
"What about yer family?" demanded the man almost angrily, "Yer frien's? Surely there's sumbody that'd miss you?"  
  
Sam closed his eyes gave a weak, pain-filled laugh. "You've killed the only one that meant anything to me here," he gasped.  
  
Ferny frowned again. What did this stupid halfling mean? Then his eyes fell on one of the wanted posters lying scattered about the small table beside him. He moved the lantern to study it more closely. Suddenly, a big, malicious grin split Ferny's dirty, stubbled, face. "That wench!" he cried in delight holding up the paper. "She's the one you killed ol' Fig over! I fergot!" He began to laugh, and spluttered as he took the final swig from his bottle. He looked at his bottle in dismay, then lurched to his feet. He leered over at Sam and shook his finger. "Now don't you go tryin' t' go anywhere!" he laughed and stumbled out of the hut, bolting the door behind him.  
  
Sam allowed himself to relax for the first time that night. Maybe if he were lucky, he thought dimly, he would die before morning ever got there. He let his mind wander, wondering about Frodo and Hertig, Merry and Pippin. What of the rest of the Cottons? Well, none of it mattered anymore. His time was nearly through. He simply prayed that they would all be all right. He hoped they would think of him kindly from time to time. With that last, dismal thought, Sam slipped into blissful unconsciousness.  
  
It was with great annoyance that he slowly came back to himself. He could hear someone calling his name. Why can't he just leave me be? Thought Sam angrily. But, as he listened, Sam realized this voice wasn't Ferny's. It was different, softer, and filled with sorrow. The voice of an angel. With great effort, Sam forced his eyes open and tried to focus on the pale shape hovering above him.  
  
"Oh, Sam!" the voice cried in distress, "What has that monster done to you!?" Sam could then feel a cool, damp cloth gently wiping his face. He blinked trying to see. Suddenly, the face became clearly illuminated as a lantern was moved closer to him. He gasped in shock and disbelief. There, carefully wiping the blood from his many injuries was Rosie Cotton!  
  
"Rosie!?" he croaked trying to see her better. He struggled in his attempts to sit up, but Rosie tenderly held him back.  
  
"Hush, Sam!" she said, tears pouring down her face. "Just rest!" Sam continued to gape at her in amazement. Her face was pale and thin and marred by an ugly bruise under her left eye.  
  
"I...I thought you were dead!" Sam blurted, "Your name was on the list! They were supposed to execute someone!"  
  
Rosie sat back on her heels and pressed her hand to her mouth. She closed her eyes for a moment in an effort to hold back her grief. "They...they did," she managed at last, but could not continue.  
  
Sam stared at her in dismay. "Who, Rosie?" he asked faintly, "I must know."  
  
She looked down at her hands, the damp rag clutched tightly in her grasp. "Jolly."  
  
Jolly. Sam felt an unexpected mixture of anger, grief and relief. He was so happy to find Rosie still alive, but Jolly had died in her place. Poor, easy-going Jolly. He and Sam had had many adventures together as they grew up and it was Jolly who had come to his rescue when Sam was first captured. Sam felt tears burning in his eyes. He hadn't thought there were any left.  
  
Sam painfully reached for Rosie's hand and held it to his breast. "I am so sorry," he said softly. Rosie nodded gratefully. Sam brought her soft hand to his lips but froze. There on her third finger was a small, silver ring. A simple thing really except for what it represented. It was a betrothal ring. Sam simply stared at it in shock, unable to say anything. Rosie, realizing what had he had seen, tried to pull her hand away.  
  
Sam turned his anguished eyes to hers. "Rosie?" he gasped in dismay and bewilderment.  
  
Rosie closed her eyes, unable to meet Sam's hurt-filled gaze any longer. "I...I don't know what to say, Sam." The ensuing silence was abruptly broken by the sound of Ferny's drunken laugh. Sam turned his head and realized Ferny had been sitting at his table all this time, a fresh bottle before him. He was watching at the hobbits with a self-satisfied smirk.  
  
"So Sammy-boy," he chortled, "L'il Miss Rosie givin' you 'er good news, eh? She's gonna get married to my good frien', Master Sandyman! Ain'tcha gonna offer her yer congratulations?" He laughed even louder.  
  
Now Sam turned his shocked gaze back to Rosie. "Ted Sandyman!?" he demanded in horrified disbelief. "You're going to marry that villain!?"  
  
Fresh tears poured down Rosie's pale face. Unconsciously, her hand touched the bruise beneath her eye. "I have no choice, Sam," she wept, anger and defeat coloring her words, "If I don't marry him, they'll kill my father or perhaps Tom or Nibs. They still have them shut away in the Lockholes. It's just Mother and me at the farm now. I can't let them hurt anyone else! Surely you understand that!"  
  
Of course Sam understood that, only all too well. Wasn't he here in this hell-hole for that very reason? If there was one thing Samwise Gamgee had learned on this year-long nightmare, it was self-sacrifice. He closed his eyes, feeling wearier than ever. But, as he listened to Rosie's gentle sobs and Ferny's obscene laughter, something happened. Gradually, the lethargy and sense of defeat that had immobilized him for so long, began to fall away. Sam had been convinced Rosie was dead and with her death went the last of his will to live. But now, not only was she alive, but was being forced to marry the worst devil in Hobbiton! Sam simply could not allow this to happen!  
  
With a cry of fury and defiance, Sam struggled to his hands and knees, ignoring the excruciating pain screaming throughout his body. Panting, he reached towards the wall and began to laboriously climb to his feet. Sweat dripped from his face from the exertion. Rosie, with a cry of dismay, reached out to help him, but he stopped her with a look. Once on his feet, Sam nearly collapsed as the world whirled around him. The pounding in his head almost drowned out Ferny's hoots of derisive laughter.  
  
"Guess I found a reason fer you to live after all, eh Sammy?!" Ferny called out mockingly, taking another drink from his bottle. "I'm certain Miss Rosie 'ere will make Ted a fine wife! Course, 'ee might hafta beat up on 'er from time to time to keep 'er in line, but she'll learn!"  
  
That was more than Sam could stand. The thought of anyone laying on hand on sweet, gentle Rosie drove him mad with an explosive anger. With a scream of rage, Sam flung himself across the room, intending to kill Ferny if at all possible. He must rescue Rosie and get her out of here! But, alas, despite his new found strength, Sam had been through too much and had suffered for too long. Even drunk, Ferny was more than a match for the traumatized hobbit and with an almost casual flick of his hand, the man back-handed Sam across the room. Sam slammed in to the back wall with a resounding thud. Dazed, but not defeated, the valiant hobbit again tried to regain his feet. Sam could hear Rosie crying out to him, but he couldn't seem to understand the words. Head spinning, Sam looked up and saw that Ferny had Rosie firmly by the hand was attempting to pull the struggling girl towards the door.  
  
"I think visiting time is over," Ferny announced loudly over Rosie's desperate cries. The man grinned in triumph as he gazed at Sam's tortured face. The ruffian had accomplished exactly what he'd set out to do – given Samwise Gamgee a reason to live. Knowing that his beloved Rosie had survived after all, but was being forced to marry one of the most despicable hobbits in the Shire was enough to drive Sam to desperate measures to save her. He wouldn't simply give up without a fight now, thought Ferny in cruel satisfaction. This would certainly make hanging this troublesome hobbit much more enjoyable after all.  
  
Ferny opened the door to cold, damp night and flung Rosie out into the mud. "So glad you could stop by!" he smirked watch as she struggled to her feet. "Hope we'll see you at the hangin'! Sam would most disappointed if ye didn't come!" Laughing harshly, he slammed the door, leaving a bereft and weeping Rosie huddled alone in the dark.  
  
Rosie stood there for a moment, feeling more hopeless than ever before in her entire young life. She had been devastated by Jolly's murder and now seeing Sam beaten and barely alive, yet still fighting to protect her felt like a knife in her heart. Blindly, she stumbled away from the collection of huts and shacks that had been erected near Bag End, intending to make her way home to the dark, lifeless farmhouse she now shared with only her mother. However, she bypassed the way home and found herself nearing the Water. She could see the horrible mill glowing in the distance and sobs nearly overwhelmed her as she pictured Jolly's small body hanging forlornly over the foul water. Seeing the mill also brought to mind Ted Sandyman. Again, she lightly touched her bruised cheek. He had struck her the day before when she had refused his advances. He seemed to think that because he was forcing her to marry him, he already owned her. She hung her head in misery. However had things gotten so bad?  
  
As she stood there staring into the desolately water, she gradually became aware of a quiet, almost furtive sound behind her. Whirling around, she cried out, "Who's there?" as bravely as she could. She knew that it was foolish to be out by herself in these terrible times and she now regretted her decision not to go home. There was a rustling in the dense brush near her and then slowly, cautiously, a small figure emerged. "Rosie?"  
  
Rosie tried to make out the other hobbit's features in the dark, but it was impossible. "Who are you?" she demanded again warily stepping back but her apprehension seemed to be disappearing.  
  
The figure stopped and Rosie herself stepped closer. She gave a small cry of surprise as she realized who stood before her. It was Frodo Baggins. 


	31. Frodo

Author's Notes: Well guys, looks like there are only a couple more chapters after this one. Not a whole lot happens in this one (one of those kind of bridging chapters as I think of them), but I hope you enjoy it just the same! Almost done with my stupid report (I'm sorry, but there just isn't anything interesting about the 'History of Medical Subject Headings'!) As aways, thanks to all of you who read my story and special thanks to those that review!  
  
Merimas Gamgee: Lotho, eh? That wouldn't have been a bad idea, but it never even crossed my mind! I did debate about killing off one of the other brothers, but decided to go with the one who had figured most prominently in the story so far.  
  
Althea: Yeah, Ferny is pretty much a Class A scumbag, which makes him so much fun to hate! Sam is pretty tough, but even he has his limits (which seem to get pushed time and time again...)  
  
Baileymag: Yep, Frodo HAS finally arrived and this is his chapter!  
  
Hobbity: You know, I don't think I have ever written quite such a pathetic Sam as in this story! Talk about 'long-suffering'! It's about time Frodo got here to help him out!  
  
Kriszta: Why thank you for all your kind words! Yes, you have my permission to translate my story an put it on your site. And don't worry, I would never pair up Frodo and Rosie! That's just not right. As for killing Sam, well, I won't make any promises. I've done it once, I might very well do it again (bwa hahahaha!)  
  
Gamgee fest: According to my maps, it's about 45 miles from the Brandywine to Hobbiton, about the same as from Bree to Brandywine. They did it in two days in the book, but they certainly could have done it more quickly (after all they made it to the Shire from Bree in one day). So, it is not unreasonable for Frodo to make it to Hobbiton in one day. I think I would rather die than marry that nasty Ted Sandyman as well. Blecch! I think Sam's anger increased his adrenalin levels allowing him the energy to fight, but mind you, it didn't accomplish much!  
  
Bronwyn: I like everyone to suffer some in this story. I'm equal opportunity! Yes, Frodo has arrived, but will he be able to rescue Sam? Only time will tell!  
  
Janna Hawkins: I did feel kinda bad killing off poor Jolly, but I felt it had to be someone on the list. So, Jolly had to go! But, Rosie is still alive!  
  
Laurajslr: Here is the next update (even though my paper isn't completely finished!) and we are rapidly coming to the end. Not sure if this chapter will make you any happier or not, but here it is!  
  
Bloodroses9: Well of course forcing Rosie to marry Ted is lame – it is nothing but pure melodrama! LOL! Can't you just see Ferny in a black cape and top hat pulling on his long mustache and tying Rosie to the railroad tracks while he does the villain's "Eeeya ah ah" laugh!? This entire story is oozing melodrama (which is part of the reason it's been fun to write!). Anyway, hope you enjoy this chapter (if not, I shall be forced to take your deed to the ranch and tie you to the buzz saw!).  
  
Bookworm2000: Yay! You're back! I've missed you! I'm glad you've been enjoying the story and hope you like that last few as well. We're almost done!  
  
The Lady of the Mirkwood: I wish I could say that Sam and Frodo get back together in this chapter, but, well, they don't! Sorry! But eventually, Frodo and Sam will be together in the same place at the same time and in the same chapter!  
  
Szhismine: Yay! You're back, too! That's ok that you weren't in the mood for all this pain and anguish! Don't feel badly. I'm mean, my stories can be kind of hard to take after awhile. But, you're back and I'm glad! I hope you continue to enjoy the last few chapters!  
  
Elf- Sorry, I don't understand Elvish.  
  
A person: Thanks so much for the reviews! Glad you liked the story and I hope you enjoy the rest of it as well!  
  
Sam: I'm glad you enjoyed Merry's family reunion! I rather enjoyed writing that! I'm sorry to say, Frodo and Sam don't meet up quite yet, but soon!  
  
Merry Lad: Well, here it is... the next chapter!  
  
Chapter 31 Frodo  
  
"M...Mister Baggins?" Rosie stuttered in surprise. Frodo looked exhausted but his smile for Rosie was bright with relief.  
  
"Rosie!" he breathed, "I worried I was too late! You're still alive!"  
  
She nodded. "They killed my brother, Jolly," she replied haltingly. "My...my mother and I were released when Sam turned himself in. They still hold my father and other brothers in the Lockholes." She then frowned. "But, how did you get here?" she asked. "Sam said you were far away."  
  
Frodo looked uncomfortable for a moment, then gently took Rosie's arm. "Is there somewhere safe we can go? I do not think we should be out here in the open. Then I will tell you all I can." He hesitated for a moment. "Is...is Sam all right?"  
  
Rosie looked away before answering. "He's still alive, if that's what you're asking," she said bleakly. "But, come, we can go to my house and speak there." She then turned to Frodo, her eyes glistening with tears. "There's not much time, Mr. Baggins. Sharkey plans to hang Sam in the morning!"  
  
Frodo's face grew grim. "I was afraid I was too late but at least we still have a chance to save him Rosie. I won't let them kill him without a fight. It's my fault he's here at all and I _will_ save him!"  
  
The two hobbits crept silently through the shadows of Hobbiton until they finally made their way to the Cotton farmhouse. They had seen a few men, but managed to avoid being seen. Rosie quietly opened the back door then she and Frodo slipped into the welcome warmth of the Cotton kitchen. A small figure huddled by the paltry fire leapt up at the sound of their entrance.  
  
"Rosie, lass!" cried the figure throwing itself into Rosie's arms. "I thought I'd lost you for good this time!"  
  
Rosie held her sobbing mother tightly. "It's all right, Ma," she said softly, "I'm fine."  
  
Mrs. Cotton stepped away and tearfully searched her daughter's pale face. "When that devil came and dragged you off, I didn't think I would ever see you again! I can't bear to lose another! I just can't!"  
  
Tears were on Rosie's cheeks now. "I know, Ma, I know." Was all she could say. They stood like that for some moments until Frodo quietly cleared his throat. "Oh!" cried Rosie in embarrassment stepping away from her mother. "Ma! Look who's come! It's Mr. Frodo!'  
  
Mrs. Cotton blinked in surprise, then self-consciously wiped the tears from her face and tried to straighten her hair and wrap. "Oh! Mr. Baggins!" she said quickly, "You must think me a foolish old lady carrying on so! Please, sit down and I'll make us all some tea!" She then stopped and stared at him as if she suddenly realized who he was. "Where did you come from, sir?" she asked, perplexed. "Last I heard you was away in foreign parts with Mr. Merry and Mr. Pippin! Are they here too?" Before Frodo could answer, Mrs. Cotton's eyes widened in realization, Have ye come to save Sam, then?" she whispered.eagerly.  
  
Frodo smiled wearily and nodded. "We were in Bree when the message about Sam reached us. We came as quickly as we could. Merry and Pippin are trying to raise the Shire against the Chief and Sharkey. I came on ahead to try and rescue Sam. I so feared I would be too late."  
  
Mrs. Cotton smiled back. "If anyone can put things to right, Mr. Baggins," she said earnestly. "It's you. Now please, sit, while I get you a bite to eat. There's not much, I'm afraid. The Chief's men have taken most everything." With that, she bustled off to find something to feed her guest.  
  
Frodo watched her for a moment then turned to Rosie. "Rosie?" he asked gently. "What can you tell me of Sam?"  
  
She sighed and studied her hands. "They've got him locked up in one of the sheds near Bag End," she began in a low voice. "A terrible man is in there with him by the name of Bill Ferny." She stopped here, tears slowly seeping from her closed eyes as she gathered herself together. "He...he's been torturing Sam."  
  
Frodo's face went white, his jaw tight with fury. Unfortunately, he knew exactly who Bill Ferny was. "How bad is he, Rosie?"  
  
She looked at him now, her face full of anguish. "He's in a terrible state, Mr. Frodo! He could barely move, Ferny beat him so bad! I wouldn't have even recognized him!" Now her voice grew cold with anger. "Ferny came and got me earlier this evening to take me to Sam. He said Sam wished to die and Ferny wanted to give Sam a reason to want to live! Just to make it that much worse for him! But that's not the worst of it!" She stood up and paced the room. "Ted Sandyman told me that the Boss doesn't really care about Sam or his rebels. He's having Sam tortured and killed to get back at you and Gandalf and the others!"  
  
Frodo stared at her dumbfounded. Get back at him? What had he ever done to this Boss? He frowned, then his eyes widened with a growing understanding. "Have you ever seen Sharkey?" he asked urgently.  
  
"Just briefly," replied Rosie watching Frodo carefully. "He looks to be an old man with a long white beard. Do you know him?"  
  
"Saruman!" he spat banging his fist on the table. "Gandalf warned us he would be up to no good! I never would have dreamed he'd come here to the Shire!" He stood now and walked to the window. "Saruman has nearly destroyed the Shire and now he wants to kill Sam because he knows how important Sam is to all of us and how much we would suffer upon his death!" He turned as Mrs. Cotton set food down on the table. Both women stared at him. "You might not believe this," Frodo said with a sad smile, "But Samwise Gamgee is one of the most famous people in all of Middle Earth! He is a hero and counts the King of Gondor as his good friend. This Saruman or Sharkey, was a wizard like Gandalf, but turned evil. He was defeated and now he wants his revenge. But, none of that matters now. What is important is that we figure out how to rescue Sam! I am hoping the Merry and Pippin will arrive soon, but we cannot count on that. I do not know how much resistance they might meet up with on the road here." He stood silent for a few moments considering their few options.  
  
"Rosie, can you take me to Sam tonight?" he asked sitting back down across from her. "Maybe there's something we can do."  
  
Rosie looked towards the window. "I don't know that we'll have enough time, Mr. Frodo," she said lifting her chin, "Dawn's comin'" Frodo turned and saw she was right. The darkness of night was starting to give way to the soft grays of morning.  
  
But Frodo was undaunted and in the end, Rosie agreed to guide him. With luck, maybe they could reach the hut before daylight had fully arrived. They crept from the Cotton's house and started up the South Lane towards Bag End. They ran as quickly as they dared, but it soon became apparent that something was going on. Men were all hurrying in the same direction and they all seemed quite agitated. Frodo and Rosie ducked down behind a hedgerow to avoid one such group. They could easily hear the men's loud voices calling to each other.  
  
"I can't believe them little Shire-rats 'ad the nerve to rise up against Tag's group down there in Frogmorton!" one man was saying in angry disbelief. "I heard some o' the men were even killed!"  
  
"Aye!" another growled menacingly, "One word from the Boss and we'll go teach them little maggots what's what! Love to git me hands around some o' their scrawny little necks!" The other men shouted in agreement and they hurried on toward Bag End.  
  
"Merry and Pippin!" whispered Frodo excitedly gripping Rosie's arm. "They're coming! They're coming!" Rosie grinned back at him, hope in her eyes. As soon as the way was clear, they continued their stealthy way towards the shacks.  
  
Frodo looked worriedly at the sky, it seemed to getting lighter with every passing moment. The final leg of the journey to the sheds felt like it took an eternity, but finally, as they took shelter behind a pile of rocks, Rosie pointed to a shed farther up the hill. "He's in there," she said quietly. Frodo glanced at her pale face and saw a lone tear trickle down her cheek.  
  
"I must go up there," he said with determination. He stood to start moving when Rosie again grabbed his arm and pulled him down. Her eyes were wide with alarm. It was then Frodo heard the footsteps approaching. Cautiously, he peered around his makeshift shelter and watched as a tall, lanky man approached the shed and knocked loudly.  
  
"Hey! Ferny!" the man cried knocking even harder. "Open up!"  
  
It took a few moments, but finally the door reluctantly opened. "Waddaya want, Mac?" Ferny snarled, peering blearily though the doorway. "Aint' even daylight yet!"  
  
"Them bloody hobbits is rising against us!" Mac told him shortly. "We need every able bodied man to head over towards Frogmorton to help put 'em down in and teach 'em a lesson."  
  
"I can't go," protested Ferny swaying unsteadily, "I'm s'posed to string this rebel up this mornin'. So, unless the Boss 'imself orders me to go, I'm staying right 'ere!"  
  
Mac stepped closer and peered around Ferny into the shed. "He don't even look like he's still alive!" Frodo felt his heart drop at that and Rosie gave a small cry of dismay.  
  
"Oh, 'ee's alive alright," mumbled Ferny, "Not too lively after las' night, but 'ee's breathin'! 'Ee was getting mighty uppity las' night an' I had to teach 'im a lesson or two. Then I tied 'im up so's he wouldn't cause me no more trouble."  
  
Mac grunted and stepped back. He surveyed Ferny with disgust. "Well, you don't look like you'd be much use anyways," he snorted and left. Ferny glared at the man's back as he marched back towards Bag End, then Ferny slammed the door shut with a resounding bang. Men were now arriving in greater numbers and if they didn't move soon, Frodo and Rosie would be spotted.  
  
Rosie bit her lip and wiped the tears from her face. "Oh, Mr. Frodo," she whispered. "What shall we do now!? Ferny's awake and all these men! We'll never get into the shed now!"  
  
Frodo grabbed Rosie's hand and led her back down the hill. As soon as they had reached the comparative safety of the hobbit houses, they sat down to rest. Frodo was thinking hard. Surely there had to be some way to rescue Sam It was obvious that Merry or Pippin had reached Frogmorton some 18 miles from Hobbiton. Frodo did not know if they had managed any further than that, but there was no doubt it would take them awhile to reach them. If only they knew when Sam was to be hung! Frodo hoped that most of the men would be off to fight the insurgents which would give him a better chance to save Sam.  
  
Frodo turned to Rosie. "There's only one way I can think of to rescue Sam," he said slowly. "Will they execute him at the Mill?" Rosie nodded, her eyes puzzled. "Then, I must hide there. Saruman's main concern is that Sam is dead before Merry, Pippin and I are supposed to arrive. Now that the hobbits are fighting back, I do not think Saruman will want any hobbits at the execution so a large number of men will not be required to keep them in hand. Plus, I am hoping that most of the men will have gone to fight in Frogmorton." Frodo paused, his hand gently resting on Sting's hilt. He abhorred the thought of violence, but he would do what was necessary to save Sam.  
  
Rosie nodded, for the first time in weeks she allowed herself to feel the slightest bit of hope. She led Frodo through what was left of the darkness to the Mill. It was still belching smoke and roaring it's deafening roar as it always did whether it was grinding grain or not. She pointed to a loading platform extending from the side of the building and stacks of grain bags were piled up filling most of the space. A makeshift gallows had been erected there where it could be easily seen. Jolly's body still hung there, a desolate and lonely figure. Frodo nodded, gave Rosie a quick hug and disappeared into the shadows.  
  
Rosie watched silently until she could no longer see Frodo's fading figure, then looking down, she studied her left hand. She gazed back at the Mill and with her jaw set in defiance, she slowly and deliberately pulled the detested silver ring from her finger, strode over to the river and flung the ring far into the foul, murky water below. She smiled in satisfaction as she heard its tiny splash. Now she had work to do. Turning, she hurried away towards town. Mr. Frodo would not be in this alone. 


	32. The Execution of Samwise Gamgee

Author's Note: Well guys, I think there is only one more chapter after this one, but I'm not absolutely positive. This chapter is considerably longer than the rest and I did consider dividing it into two, but decided I liked it best as one (plus, you guys have suffered through enough of my cliffhangers!). So, I hope you don't mind (I also hope it doesn't come across as too corny)!  
  
Bronwyn: Here you go – Sam AND Frodo together again (sort of...)!  
  
Laurajslr: I'm glad you liked the last chapter. As you know, sometimes you just need those kinds where not a whole lot happens, but you need to provide some continuity between events. I do try to make them interesting! I'm like you – I love reunion scenes!  
  
RenaissanceGrrl: Yes, everyone should suffer, including the readers! Lol! I don't know, would people (i.e. this bloodthirsty lot) read fluffy Sam? I'm not sure I could write it. He'd start out all happy and cute, but then...an earthquake would destroy his home and Rosie would be kidnapped by orcs and then... well, you get the picture! Feel free to use "bridging chapter" all you like! Does indeed sound better than "filler"!  
  
BloodRoses9: OK, I have REALLY tried to redeem Frodo in your eyes here! Maybe he's not Frodo the Big and Brave Butt-Kicking Hobbit, but he does try! LOL!  
  
Bookworm2000: I hope this chapter appeases you a little! I also figured Rosie was not going to sit around twiddling her thumbs if she could help!  
  
Arwen Baggins: This chapter will tell you what Rosie was up to! No need to wait any longer!  
  
Baileymag: I really am so pleased that you like my story (blush)! You guys are the ones that make it so much fun to write! I try to keep them interesting and I'm glad you didn't find this last chapter boring. As for your request, well, you'll just have to keep reading.  
  
Szhismine; And here's another loooong update! Hope you enjoy it!  
  
Frodo Freak2: Woohoo! Welcome back! Wow, I made you cry!? I'm impressed! LOL! Thank you so much for you great review – you guys really are the best! (blushes again)  
  
Janna Hawkins: Here is story of nasssty fat hobbit and Master! Go hobbitses! Hope it doesn't drive you back to Sauron!  
  
Sam: You don't have to wait til the next chapter. To be honest, I don't really plan on spending time on Merry and Pippin's military adventures. Just pretend it's pretty much as Tolkien wrote it!  
  
Well guys, here it is, the long chapter and I hope you enjoy it!  
  
Chapter 32 The Execution of Samwise Gamgee  
  
Sam was slumped in the far corner of the shed. He was tied up now after repeatedly trying to attack Ferny. Granted, his attempts were weak and ineffectual, but Ferny grew weary of having to watch for them. Finally, Ferny struck Sam savagely across the face, stunning the feeble hobbit, then tied him up. But Sam refused to admit defeat. A deep rage burned inside him and he ignored his pain. He cursed his weak and battered body. He thought of all the terrible things he would do to Ferny and Sandyman and Saruman if ever got free. But, most of all, he worried about Rosie. It ate at him to think of her wed to that despicable miller, but what could he do to prevent it?  
  
He sighed, wincing in pain. Maybe Mr. Frodo and the others would come soon, he though dismally. Maybe they could put things to rights. But, would they come in time? His time was almost up. Suddenly, his attention was drawn to loud, angry voices outside followed by a persistent knocking on the door. With an aggravated groan, Ferny lurched to his feet and unsteadily made his way to the door. Another man stood there staring at him.  
  
Sam leaned back against the wall, his eyes closed as he listened to the conversation. Excitement began to build within him as he took in the other man's words. Mr. Frodo and the others were coming and they were fighting back! Maybe all was not lost. If only they could get to Hobbiton before it was too late! Sam's eyes snapped open as Ferny slammed the door shut. The man stood there glaring at Sam through bloodshot eyes.  
  
"Guess yer little friends are makin' it back after all," he snarled stumbling towards Sam. He leaned closer to the hobbit. Sam shrank from the man's foul breath. "But, the Boss wants you strung up before they get here," he continued, "So, soon's the sun's up, you and me will go on a little walk to the Mill. Yer fren' Happy or whatever his name was, is pinin' fer some comp'ny!" With a harsh laugh, Ferny staggered back to his chair, collapsing into it. He took a swig from his nearly empty bottle, then searched a sack for some food. It wouldn't be long now.  
  
The sun was well above the horizon when Ferny finally pulled himself together enough to get about his task. His head was pounding, but he wouldn't let that get in the way of his fun. He glanced over to the hobbit in the corner. Sam had been silent for some time now, although his eyes spoke volumes. Ferny had no doubt the hobbit would do him serious harm if given half a chance. But, that chance would never come, the ruffian thought with gloating satisfaction. He reached down to his sack again and pulled out a length of rope. With experienced hands, he quickly fashioned the end into a hangman's noose. He gave Sam a leering grin.  
  
"Guess it's time, Sammy-lad," Ferny declared getting to his feet. Sam just glared at him. Ferny stepped over to the bound hobbit and stooped down. Using his knife, he cut the bonds around Sam's legs. "I ain't carrying you to the Mill, rat," he said. "Frankly, I'd be happy to hang ye from th' first tree we find, but the Boss wants you front and center where everyone can see. So, we walk." He reached down, grabbed Sam by the shirt and pulled him to his feet.  
  
Sam gasped in pain fighting back a cry. Every little movement was excruciating, but he refused to give Ferny the satisfaction of showing how much he hurt. He stood unsteadily for a moment feeling the word reeling about him. Nausea rose in his throat, but he fought it down. Not that there was anything in his stomach, he thought. He couldn't even remember the last time he had had anything to eat or drink. His mouth was a dry as cotton.  
  
Ferny studied him a moment in disgust. This would never do. The stupid creature could barely stand, let alone walk. Ferny reached over to a nearby bucket and brought up a dipper of water. Roughly, he poured some into Sam's parched mouth. Sam gulped it down greedily, grateful for even the smallest relief. A few more dippers of water seemed to revive Sam somewhat and he felt a bit steadier on his feet. "All right," Ferny said finally, "Let's go."  
  
Sam's hands were tied behind him and in his weak and injured condition, he frequently stumbled and would have fallen had not Ferny grabbed onto him. Sam tried to take in his surroundings, his last looks at his beloved home, but Ferny hustled him along and the journey was primarily a blur of pain and brief images.  
  
It seemed to take a lifetime before they finally reached the Mill. Sam was panting heavily, his body bathed in sweat. The only thing keeping Sam on his feet was Ferny's firm grasp on his arm. "Well, Master Gamgee," said Ferny softly as they gazed up at Jolly's body swinging above them. "Looks like yer time has come." Several men, left to guard the Mill, were lounging lazily around the Mill's doors. They watched with interest as Ferny dragged Sam up the steps to the loading dock.  
  
"Hang 'im high, Ferny!" called one of the men with a laugh, "Show them Halflings what 'appens to them what fights back!" The others shouted their agreement and gathered closer. They were eager for the show.  
  
Ferny smiled and waved, then looking down at Sam, gave the hobbit a small, triumphant grin as he lowered the noose over Sam's head. A moment later, he had the rope over the beam above them and Sam's eyes widened as he felt the noose tighten around his throat. The men cheered enthusiastically. Ferny turned and looked down at them with a grin and a small bow.  
  
"By order of the Chief of the Shirriffs, Lotho Sackville-Baggins," he announced, "It has been decreed that this outlaw, Samwise Gamgee, shall be hung by the neck until he is dead!" Again the men cheered.  
  
Sam stood silent, his face white. "Good-bye, Dad," he thought as he ran down the list of his loved ones. "Good-by, Rosie. I'm sorry I failed you." Tears burned in his eyes, but he blinked them away. Finally, he thought of Frodo. Dear Mr. Frodo, his beloved master. He had tried so hard to keep Frodo from his thoughts. Sam had desperately hoped that when Frodo returned to the Shire, perhaps they could set things to rights and everything could be the same between them once more. But, it was too late for that now. The next time Frodo would see Sam, the faithful gardener would be hanging from the gallows. "I'm so sorry, Mr. Frodo," he whispered silently. "Please forgive me."  
  
With those words, Sam gasped in pain and shock as he felt his feet leave the ground and the rough surface of the rope bit into his neck. Behind him, Ferny was hauling on the rope. There was no trap door or quick snap of the neck. Sam's death would be slow and agonizing. Ferny smiled as he tied off the rope. The men cheered as they listened to Sam's desperately gasping for air.  
  
"Stop!" A clear voice rang out from behind Ferny and he whirled to find Frodo stepping through a small access door in the wall, Sting glittering dangerously in his hand. "Cut him down _now_!" Frodo's eyes were cold and deadly.  
  
Even hung-over, Ferny could be quick. Without warning, he leaped at Frodo, but just as quickly, his snarl of rage turned into a howl of pain as Sting sliced through his leg. He collapsed, blood flowing through his fingers as he grasped his injured limb. However, he still stood between Frodo and the rope. Sam's strangled cries were becoming progressively weaker.  
  
The other men had stood gaping in surprise at this unexpected turn of events, but with Ferny's collapse they cried out in anger and surged towards the steps. Ferny had his knife in hand now and waved it wildly keeping Frodo at bay. Frodo looked up and saw Sam's face was turning an alarming shade of purple although he still struggled. Frodo's desperation to save his friend was almost overwhelming now and with his own scream of fury swung Sting into Ferny's shoulder knocking the man squealing in pain and surprise off the platform. But the other men were there now, advancing menacingly as they kept their eyes on the glittering blade. There were six of them; far more than Frodo could handle alone, but he would not admit defeat.  
  
All of a sudden, his attention wavered as he heard someone call his name. He glanced briefly to the side and almost shouted in joy and relief as he saw a group of perhaps 20 hobbits, armed with clubs and assorted weapons running towards them with Rosie in the lead. The men turned in astonishment as the mob approached them. It was in that moment that Frodo dashed forward, slicing through the rope holding Sam. The suspended hobbit dropped to the ground with a sickening thud. The men, not about to be scared off by a bunch of Halflings, had descended from platform and fiercely attacked the armed hobbits. However, the hobbits were not so easily defeated and fought back with a ferocity that surprised even them. It was soon over and the men lay dead on the ground.  
  
Frodo frantically pulled the rope from around Sam's neck. The tender skin was torn and bruised, but even worse, Sam was not breathing. "Sam!" Frodo cried desperately shaking him, "Sam, it's me! Frodo!" He barely noticed when Rosie joined him, tears running freely down her flushed face.  
  
"Is he dead, Mr. Frodo?" she cried in horror, "Please, don't tell me we were too late!"  
  
Frozen with despair, Frodo stared for a moment at Sam's battered, discolored face. "Oh Sam!" he cried gently pushing Sam's matted hair from his brow, "What did they do to you?" Then, in an unexpected flash of memory, he recalled how one of the Brandybuck children had nearly drowned a few years past. He and Merry had been the only ones around and Merry quickly showed Frodo how to breathe life back into the child's tiny body. It didn't always work, Merry told Frodo later, but as the Brandybucks spent more time on and around water than any other group of hobbits, they found this method more effective than most. Without a further thought, Frodo gently tilted Sam's head back, and taking a deep breath, attempted to fill Sam's lungs with life-giving air.  
  
The other hobbits had gathered around now, watching anxiously. Sam's two brothers were there and their faces were pale with shock. Again and again Frodo filled Sam's lungs while Rosie pleaded to him to come back to them. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Sam gave a small, rasping gasp, followed by another and then another, each a bit deeper than the last. Frodo sat back on heels and almost wept with relief as the congested, purple hue gradually faded from Sam's face. The other hobbits all cheered and thumped each other in joy, Sam's brothers the loudest of them all. Rosie threw herself on a surprised Frodo and kissed him firmly on the cheek. "You've saved him, Mr. Frodo!" she cried, "You've saved him!"  
  
Frodo looked down at Sam again then leaned over quickly as he noticed his friend's eyes flickering open. Barely conscious, Sam's eyes settled in disbelief on Frodo's affectionate grin. "Hullo, Samwise Gamgee," said Frodo softly. "So this is what happens when I'm not around to look after you!" Sam replied with a faint grin, then lapsed back into unconsciousness.  
  
"We must get him to a doctor!" said Rosie urgently. Frodo nodded. He took off his faithful Lothlorien cloak and gently wrapped Sam in its soft folds. Frodo reached down to try and lift Sam when he felt a strong hand touch his shoulder. Sam's oldest brother, Hamson stood beside him now.  
  
"Please, Mr. Frodo," said the sturdy rope-maker, "Let me." Frodo looked into Hamson's worried face and stepped aside. With seemingly no effort at all, Hamson lifted his young brother's frail and battered body cradling him with unexpected tenderness.  
  
"My house is closest," said Rosie, "We can take him there."  
  
"I'll go for the doctor!" cried one of the other hobbits and darted away. Hamson nodded, his brother Halfred close by, and they followed Rosie to the South Lane.  
  
Mrs. Cotton met them at the door, her face creased in worry. "Oh Sam!" she exclaimed, then led Hamson to a small downstairs bedroom where he gently lay Sam on the bed. He backed off a few steps while Mrs. Cotton bent over Sam. "Rosie!" she cried all business now that there was work to be done. "Get me some hot water and some clean cloths. Let's get him cleaned up for the doctor."  
  
Frodo and Sam's brothers clustered outside the doorway, trying to keep out of the way. Mrs. Cotton worked swiftly and by the time the doctor arrived a short while later, she had the worst of the dirt cleaned away. Dr. P. Smallburrow had been Hobbiton's only doctor for many years but rarely had been faced with such a daunting task as he faced now.  
  
His face was grim as he examined Sam's many injuries and ravaged throat. Frodo watched tensely as the doctor applied various ointments and salves, bandaged and splinted, wrapped and stitched. At long last, he stood up, wiping the sweat from his brow. Mrs. Cotton brought him a pail of water to wash up in. The doctor smiled wearily in thanks.  
  
Frodo could be still no longer. "How is he, Doctor?" he blurted, his eyes studying the doctor's somber face. Sam's brothers and the Cottons drew closer.  
  
Doctor Smallburrow sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Well, Frodo," he began, "Sam's in pretty bad shape. His neck is a mess and it'll be some time before he'll be able to move it much or swallow solids. Talking won't come easy neither. He's got broken ribs, bruises on top o' bruises, and his back reminds me of a flayed fish. No tellin' how bad the internal injuries are, but the good thing is, he's alive and Gamgees are tough to kill." Halfred and Hamson grinned at each other. "He's badly dehydrated, has lost a lot o' blood and doesn't look like he's eaten regular in a long time." He sighed again and turned to Mrs. Cotton.  
  
"He's going to need a lot of nursing these next few weeks," he warned her. "He's not out of the woods by a long shot. But, I've done all I can for now. I'll stop in again later and see how he's faring. Don't hesitate to call me if he takes turn for the worse." Settling his hat on his head, the doctor picked up his bag and turned to Frodo. "Good to see you back home, Frodo," he said. "Heard tell that Merry and Pippin on are their way as well." He smiled. "Bout time you lads got here!" Then, with a few last minute instructions to Mrs. Cotton and Rosie, he took his leave.  
  
Hamfast and Halfred said they would check back later, but they were eager to get back into the fight against the ruffians. Frodo nodded. He would not leave Sam's side. He had no heart for fighting and decided he would wait for Merry and Pippin in the Cotton's farmhouse.  
  
He and Rosie took turns sitting beside Sam in the tiny room, although neither ventured far. Mrs. Cotton made sure Frodo ate something. "You've had no sleep and little to eat," she scolded him. "You don't want to get sick do you? Sam's depending on you!" With a small smile of resignation, Frodo gave in and quickly devoured some of Mrs. Cotton's famous rabbit stew.  
  
Night was falling when they heard triumphant shouts and cries of excitement. Frodo hurried to the door and out to the lane. At the head of a line of cheering hobbits rode none other than Peregrin Took and Meriadoc Brandybuck, the newly acclaimed military geniuses of the Shire. "Frodo!" exclaimed Merry joyfully, "We've defeated them! The men are on the run and the Shire is ours!" The hobbits cheered again.  
  
Frodo grinned up at his cousins. They were clearly in their element and basking in the unaccustomed glory. "All hail the conquering heroes!" returned Frodo stepping closer to the horses. Merry slid off his, quickly followed by Pippin and with shouts of laughter, the three cousins embraced in relief and joy.  
  
When they stepped apart, Merry's grew serious. "We heard you were able to rescue Sam at the very last moment," he said quietly. "How is he?"  
  
Frodo sighed. "He's in a bad way, Merry," he replied, "But, you know how strong he is. If he could survive Mordor, he can survive this. Come along and you can see him." Merry and Pippin removed their helmets and followed Frodo into the Cotton farmhouse. Rosie and her mother became unusually flustered at the sight of Merry and Pippin in their impressive array of armor.  
  
The three companions stood in the doorway peering in sorrow at Sam's bruised and bandaged face and listening to his harsh, labored breathing. "Hardly even looks like him," observed Pippin in dismay. "You say that Bill Ferny from Bree did this?"  
  
Frodo nodded, his lips pressed tightly in anger. "Yes. I heard he was killed earlier today when the hobbits here came to our rescue. I truly wanted no killing here, but I cannot in all honesty feel any grief at that scoundrel's death."  
  
Merry stepped forward and gently placed a hand on Sam's brow. "We've been hearing some rather impressive tales about old Sam here," he said with a bemused smile. He turned to Frodo. "The hobbits here say he's a real hero. He led a band of rebels who stole back their crops from the ruffians and made sure they didn't starve. He burned bridges and apparently caused all kinds of problems for the Chief and Sharkey. They've even started making songs and stories about him!"  
  
Frodo laughed quietly. "That _would_ please Sam very much indeed! I think the world is finally learning what I have known about Sam for these many months. He is a most brave and noble hobbit. I just hope it hasn't cost him his life." He stood silently know, gazing mournfully at his friend.  
  
Merry and Pippin exchanged glances. Merry cleared his throat. "Thought you might like to know that we've got that Sharkey fellow trapped in one of the sheds. Hasn't come out yet, though and there's been no sign of Lotho."  
  
Frodo turned from Sam's sickroom and sat heavily on one of the kitchen chairs. "I do not believe we will find Lotho alive," he said dully. He looked at his cousins. "I do not suppose you have guessed the true identity of Sharkey?" Merry and Pippin stared at him blankly. Frodo gave a small laugh. "It's Saruman."  
  
"Saruman!" cried Merry furiously. "Saruman? He did this? He destroyed the Shire and tried to kill Sam? I should have stuffed that tobacco pouch down his miserable throat!"  
  
"Let's go kill him right now!" growled Pippin, his sword in his hand. "He certainly deserves it after all the misery he's caused!"  
  
"We will go speak with him," replied Frodo in a drained voice, "But there's been enough killing." Frodo looked up as he realized that crowd of hobbits in the road had gone quiet and were staring at something down the road. He and his cousins stepped outside and peered past the crowd. They spied at two figures making their way towards the farmhouse; one carried a bundle in its arms. In time, Frodo made out the grim faces of the two Gamgee brothers and with a stab of pain, Frodo realized what Hamson carried in his strong arms. It was Jolly Cotton. They were bringing him home at last. . 


	33. To Heal a Heart

Author's New Note: OK, as usual, after having read this chapter over several times and positive I had caught all the errors, as soon as it was posted, more spontaneously developed and at least one definitely needed correction (my head said 'Theoden' but my fingers typed 'Theodred'). I apologize for the inconvenience of having this chapter posted twice and I hope I caught them all THIS time (but, probably not...) Thanks for all your wonderful support!  
  
Author's Note: Well here is the long awaited reunion chapter. I hope you like it. Turns out, there will be one more chapter after this one to kind of tie up all those loose ends.  
  
The Lady of Mirkwood: I hope you like this chapter where not only are they in the same chapter at the same time and in the same place, but they actually talk to each other! Be sure and read the last chapter!  
  
Bookworm2000: I hope this chapter lives up to your expectations. These are always kind of hard to write!  
  
Bloodroses9: Twice, eh? Guess it wasn't TOO bad! As for lots more, well I'm afraid there is only one more after this one. I hope you like it.  
  
Laurajslr: Do you always feel sad when your stories wind up? I'm feeling kinda sad as I post this knowing it's about over. Sigh. Anyway, I try to remember all those little details (like Saruman), but I have missed things before! I did seriously consider actually having Sam die there on the gallows, but decided against it. Glad I didn't disappoint you! Yes, Sam and Frodo do get to talk in this chapter!  
  
Kriszta: I hope I did OK with this reunion chapter and that you aren't disappointed! I tried not to gloss over it too quickly!  
  
Sam: I actually made you tear up? Wow. I'm really glad you liked it so much! I tried to make it interesting!  
  
Me: Only a FEW grammatical errors!? LOL! Never seems to fail. I read over it several times, think I've caught everything then as soon as I post the dang thing, it's like errors pop up like daisies! Then I have to decide whether to take it off an fix it and repost the story (and annoying people because they keep getting new chapter notices for the same chapter) or let it slide. I have pulled them occasionally if the errors were bad enough. Anyway, I still hope you enjoyed the story!  
  
Gamgeefest: Welcome back! Yes, I have been using the Atlas of the Middle Earth (mainly because it is so much easier than trying to use the maps in the book) so perhaps that is incorrect when it comes to distances. I guess someday I'll really study all the maps and come up with some conclusion! Anyway, I figured Rosie was a spunky girl and she wouldn't just sit around waiting for Frodo to save Sam if she could help!  
  
Janna Hawkins: Your wish is my command...  
  
Althea: I am glad you found the last chapter to be a satisfying one! I hope this one is as well!  
  
Baileymag: I just love reading your reviews! They make my day! You can call my story any positive you like (I'm not proud)! I really am glad you've enjoyed this story so much. I do try and think of unexpected events to throw in to keep the stories from being too predictable! I hope you like this chapter as well.  
  
Bronwyn: Thank you! Can't say this chapter didn't have variety! Again, I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as the last!  
  
Szhismine: Here you go- the promised update and reunion chapter! Your waiting is over!  
  
Hobbity: Glad to have made you so happy for Sam and Frodo! Here, they're really together at last!  
  
FrodoBaggins87: Welcome back! I hope the move went well! At least you got to read all the chapters at once! I tried to update as quickly as I could. Happy now!?  
  
Frodo's Sister: Welcome and thank you for your great review! I'm glad you're enjoying the story and I hope this chapter lives up to your expectations!  
  
OK everyone, here is the second to the last chapter. I hope you enjoy it!  
  
Chapter 33 To Heal a Heart  
  
For several days Frodo remained by Sam's bedside. He wanted to be sure to be there when Sam regained consciousness. He nursed him through his fevers and bouts of delirium, feeling such pain himself knowing, unwitting or not, it was his fault Sam had suffered so much. There was only one time when he consented to leave for longer than a few moments and that was when he had joined Merry and Pippin to confront Saruman.  
  
Frodo stood and looked through the small window near Sam's bed as he remembered that unpleasant experience. Saruman had shown no remorse and had mocked them, claiming that they had gotten what they deserved for acting as if they were more than pathetic little halflings and laughed that they would be helpless without Gandalf to help them. His one regret was that he had not killed Sam before they had arrived.  
  
"It would have given me great pleasure," Saruman had sneered, "To know that your first glimpse of your dear little village would have been of your companion hanging from the gallows! I am sorry I failed in that. I hear he might still die?" he added hopefully. Pippin had wanted to run him through at that, but Frodo stopped him as just he had stopped Merry moments later after Saruman had attempted to stab Frodo. There had been too much killing already. However, things had not ended pleasantly for Saruman. His own lackey, Wormtongue had been finally pushed too far and he slashed Saruman's throat, murdering his abusive master. Wormtongue himself had been brought down by three hobbit arrows moments later. Thus had ended the War of the Ring.  
  
The hobbits had much to do. They had buried their dead, including poor Jolly Cotton, in a special graveyard situated on a quiet slope just outside of town. In the spring, it would be covered with flowers. Farmer Cotton and his surviving sons had been released from the Lockholes, along with the rest of the prisoners and Mrs. Cotton had almost collapsed with relief to see her beloved family together again. The Mayor was delighted to hear that Hertig had escaped and gotten his warning to Frodo in time, but dismayed to hear that the Rider had been wounded. Frodo admitted they still did not know if he had survived. Ferdinand Took and Ilberic Brandybuck volunteered to journey to Bree to find out. Hertig's armor had been uncovered in Bag End and they took it with them in hopes of returning it to the brave Rider. The entire Shire was giddy with relief to be free of the Chief and Sharkey and their abusive ruffians. The hobbits delighted in telling and retelling the tales of how Merry and Pippin had raised the countryside and how Frodo and Rosie had managed to rescue Sam at the very last minute from the hangman's noose. Fredegar Bolger was thrilled to be reunited with his friends and he spent many an hour telling Merry and Pippin, as well as anyone else who would listen, of his adventures as a rebel and of Sam's legendary exploits.  
  
But Frodo heard little of this. His dearest companion lay gravely ill and Frodo feared he would die without ever knowing the truth. He had to let Sam know that Sam had been so wrong about what he had heard. Frodo could never hate Sam or wish him ill! As long as there was a chance to clear things up, he would remain by Sam's side.  
  
Dr. Smallburrow stopped by daily to see how Sam was doing and although he spoke in cheerful, encouraging tones, Frodo saw the grim concern in his eyes. Rosie or Mrs. Cotton frequently came in to check on the patient or to give Frodo a short break, but they never tried to dissuade him from his vigil. Often they heard him singing quietly or talking to Sam even though they knew the unconscious gardener could not hear. Frodo felt it was the least he could do. Merry and Pippin often came to sit with him and Sam's family came by almost every day. One afternoon, Hamson escorted his old Gaffer to the Cotton farm to visit.  
  
"My poor, Sam!" the old hobbit had moaned quietly, tears glistening on his wrinkled cheeks, "My poor, poor Sam!" He had turned to Frodo then. "I hope he gave you good service on your journey, Mr. Baggins," he said hesitantly as if trying to avoid thinking about what had really happened to Sam.  
  
Frodo smiled back. "Oh yes, Mr. Gamgee, the very best. I could not have asked for a better companion and he is famous even outside of the Shire now. All of Middle Earth knows of his bravery!"  
  
The gaffer beamed at that and looked back down at Sam's bruised face. "Sam always was a good lad," he said softly, gently caressing Sam's cheek. A short while later, his eldest son led him away.  
  
It was on the morning of the seventh day and Frodo was peering out the window at the dismal weather. It was raw and sleet was splattering against the glass. He wondered if Sam would ever wake up. Suddenly his reverie was broken by a soft moan. Turning quickly, Frodo felt himself go weak with relief when he saw Sam's eyes slowly open. Sam looked around the room in obvious confusion. "Sam!" Frodo cried hurrying to his friend's bedside and peering into his face. "Sam! It's me! Frodo!"  
  
For a moment, Sam blinked as if this made no sense. Finally, his eyes focused on the face above him and he frowned. "Mister Frodo?" the words came out as a painful rasp and Sam's hand clumsily reached for his bandaged throat.  
  
"Don't try to speak, Sam," Frodo instructed as he reached for a cup of water. "Here, drink this." Holding Sam's head steady, Frodo carefully poured some water into his friend's mouth. Sam winced in pain as he swallowed. Frodo smiled sympathetically. "The doctor said your throat and neck would be very painful for awhile, Sam. Guess that's what happens when you try to get your self hung!" Sam closed his eyes and gave a pained smile.  
  
Frodo sat silent for a moment. In his mind he had played over and over exactly how he would explain the truth of what happened in Minas Tirith to Sam, but now that the time had come, he felt oddly tongue-tied. He cleared his throat and gently took hold of Sam's hand. Sam seemed to flinch at the touch, keeping his eyes closed. Frodo looked down, took a deep breath and began.  
  
"Sam," he said, wishing his friend would look at him. "I cannot tell you how sorry I am about everything that has happened to you. I...I know it has all been my fault and..." Sam's eyes flew open. He tightly squeezed Frodo's hand and shook his head adamantly. He opened his mouth as if to try to speak. "No, Sam," begged Frodo, "Hear me out! It _was_ my fault for not being more attentive and not questioning why you were so miserable. We learned at the Coronation Ball about the horrible things that despicable Lady Uzelle said to you. I knew something was bothering you, yet I never really pursued it. You cannot imagine how upset I was, how upset we _all _were, when we heard what she had done."  
  
Sam flushed in humiliation at the thought of Lady Uzelle and looked away. Tears now glistened in his eyes. He tried to pull his hand away, but Frodo held on tight.  
  
"Sam," he continued, "No one agreed with her. _No one_! Do you understand? You should have seen Aragorn shred her to pieces in front of the entire ball! He said she could never return to court unless_ you_ said she could!" Sam's eyes widened at that and Frodo smiled for the first time. Then, his face grew somber.  
  
"She got her revenge, though," he said tightly. "When you disappeared during the ball, she concocted this story of how you had been so depressed, you threw yourself into the river! I didn't know what to believe, but I did know that if you were indeed dead, I didn't want to live myself." Frodo paused and looked at Sam. "You are _that_ important to me Samwise Gamgee." Sam closed his eyes again as plump tears slowly trickled down his gaunt cheeks. Frodo took his handkerchief and gently wiped them away. "But then," Frodo smiled, "We got word from Edoras that you weren't dead at all, but had been found on the road by a Rider and nursed back to health by his wife! But as wonderful as that news was, it was followed by the disheartening information that you had departed for the Shire with no explanation. We left for Rohan with the escort for King Theoden's body and when we reached Edoras, I searched out Lady Helveg to learn what news I could of you." He stopped again. This part was especially painful to Frodo. To know that his words, misunderstood though they had been, had nearly resulted in Sam's death was as agonizing as a dagger in Frodo's heart.  
  
"She told me what you had overheard, Sam."  
  
Sam's entire body seemed to collapse into itself. He could not meet Frodo's gaze knowing the coldness he would see there. Sam felt his grief and shame burn anew and it was almost too painful to bear. Tears now freely ran down Sam's face and he swallowed painfully. "It...it's alright, Mr. Frodo," he croaked hoarsely, "You don't... have to explain."  
  
"Yes, Sam, I do!" cried Frodo urgently. "You don't understand! You had it all wrong! I wasn't talking about _you_ at all! I was speaking of _Gollum_! He was the one haunting me, not you! How could you ever think I would want you gone!? Samwise Gamgee, you are the only reason we are still alive today! The only reason the Ring ever even made it to the Cracks of Doom and the only reason Middle Earth is free from Sauron! You took care of me and most of all, you were my lifeline to sanity! If I hadn't taken you for granted once we were safely in Minas Tirith, none of this would have happened and so I blame myself for your suffering." Frodo was shaking now, his own face wet with tears. "Please Sam," he whispered softly, "Please forgive me."  
  
Now, Sam stared at his master in shock. This was not what he had expected to hear and he was utterly dumbfounded to learn that everything he had believed in was completely false! Frodo didn't hate him at all! _Samwise Gamgee_, he thought to himself as he tried to sort out his emotions. _You have been the biggest fool in all of Middle Earth! How could you have thought such things!?_ But, soon shock gave away to a wave of intense joy and using what little strength he had, Sam threw his arms around his master and hugged him. Frodo, equally as jubilant to have his old Sam back, hugged him tightly in return and it was thus that Pippin and Merry found their two friends. 


	34. The Good in the World

Author's Note: Well guys, here it is. The final chapter. Makes me sad to think I won't have this to work on anymore! Not too sure about this chapter though. It was very difficult to write and I went through a variety of scenarios (some quite grim!). Usually, I don't do that, so now I'm not sure I like how this finally came out in the end. I really felt that it should take a little time for Sam to get over his ordeal and I wanted to portray that here. Anyway, I hope you're not disappointed.  
  
I truly want to thank all of you who have read my story, and special thanks to those of you who have taken the time to review (and extra special thanks to those who actually reviewed each and every one of these 34 chapters!). You guys are the ones that make this so rewarding and fun (and why I keep coming back to write these tortured Sam stories! I really need to get a life!). Thank you.  
  
Gamgeefest: Glad you enjoyed the last chapter! It is always nice when they get back together. I like happy endings!  
  
Bronwyn: Yep, this is the last one. I'm not sure about another one anytime soon. Life is pretty hectic right now (which is partly why this chapter took awhile to get up). But, I always say that, and I seem to keep coming back!  
  
Baileymag: I really am glad that after all your incessant demands that I get that hobbits back together that you felt the last chapter was worth the wait! LOL! Thanks again for all your wonderful support!  
  
Kriszta : OK, here is the last chapter! Hope you have fun translating and posting it! Thanks for being such a faithful reader!  
  
Lauralsjr: Well, here is the end of my story now. Sigh. I hate I don't have this one to write and yours to look forward to! Anyway, yes, there is more Sam and Frodo interaction in this one! More angst! More happiness! Hopefully I have wound up all those loose threads! Thanks for all your wonderfully supportive reviews!  
  
Szhismine: Glad you liked the last chapter! Here, I am sorry to say, is the last.  
  
Merimas Gamgee: I really don't know what I'll write next. I keep saying I'm done writing Sam angst, but I keep coming back with more! Due to my hectic schedule right now, it will be awhile, but I am thinking about possible stories. Maybe something with Boromir in it. So, we shall see!  
  
Bloodroses9: Whoa! Didn't mean to upset you by ending the story! I mean, I could go on and on and on, but after awhile, it would get pretty tedious ( you might get a little bored by chapter 576!) ! I hope this chapter at least will appease you a little bit (I can't take much more sugar!!!!)  
  
FrodoBaggins87: Well, there is a bit more angst in this chapter. Maybe not as much as you'd like, but I did try to stick some in just for you!  
  
AuoraMaiden: I am very pleased you liked this story so well! It makes me feel good to know people have enjoyed it! I hope this last one is to your liking as well! Thank you for your wonderful reviews and comments!  
  
LalaithoftheBruinen: I'm glad you liked these last chapters! I often find the ending is the hardest to write (and this was no exception!).  
  
Sam: You know, I kinda felt the same way. The stuff that happened in Minas Tirith seemed so long ago! In a way, that's why I felt I had to recap what had happened there to remind everyone how Sam got to where he was!  
  
Janna Hawkins: Here it is. We hopes the Precious is happy!  
  
RenaissanceGrrl: Yes, the fear of rabid Sam fans banging on my door with torches and pitchforks deterred me from killing Sam there on the gallows! Brings down the property values! I hope this chapter wraps things up for you (although we don't hear anything further on Uzelle. I will admit that. Maybe someday they would hear, but under the current circumstances, no one is there to update them! Anyway, here is the end and I want to thank you for all your amazing reviews! They often made me laugh!  
  
OK, for what it is worth, here is the final farewell chapter of "At the End of All Things"  
  
Ch 34 The Good in the World  
  
Sam spent many hours catching up with Frodo, Merry, and Pippin. He had been ecstatic to learn they had chased the ruffians from the Shire and that Saruman was gone forever. He was especially pleased to hear that Bill Ferny had not survived the fighting. He spoke little of his own ordeals and adventures. Some were simply too painful to recount. His near-hanging was especially difficult for him, but he beamed at Rosie when Frodo told him of how she had raised the hobbits of Hobbiton to come to his rescue. Rosie just blushed, but was pleased that Frodo made sure Sam knew.  
  
As glad as Sam was to see his friends, at times he still felt it difficult to accept that everything Frodo said had been true. He did so want to believe it, but with growing frequency he felt a cold depression threatening to overwhelm him once more. So many bad things had happened, he mused sadly to himself and he couldn't help but feel somehow responsible for much of it.  
  
"You're just being foolish, Samwise Gamgee," he muttered to himself one night in growing irritation. The pain from his injuries was keeping him awake and his thoughts were not happy ones. He couldn't help thinking how Jolly would still be alive if he hadn't joined up with those rebels. He worried about Hertig. No word had come yet and Sam harbored a deep and horrifying fear that he was dead. Olwyn's shining face would rise up before him in such instances and Sam would fight the urge to cry out. The pain and fears he had nurtured for so long did not simply disappear just because Frodo had come back and in some ways that was the most frustrating of all.  
  
Rosie watched Sam with growing concern. He had been so happy those first few days after he had awakened, but lately, he seemed to be brooding and depressed. He merely picked at his food now and Rosie, whose room was nearest to Sam's, had often heard him cry out in the grip of some horrible nightmare. She wondered if Frodo saw these things, but Sam's master was so happy to have Sam back again, she doubted it. Plus, Frodo was gone much of the time. Now that Sam seemed to be doing better, Frodo spent many hours with the other hobbits trying to put their lives back in order. He and his cousins were working on repairing Bag End so that he could move back home, and Rosie knew he hoped to bring Sam with him. She tried to speak to Sam about what was troubling him, but all he would say was, "Don't bother about me, Rosie! There's so many worse off than me. I'll be fine as soon as I can get out of this bed!" But with the way things were going, Rosie worried that day might never come.  
  
One afternoon, she stood outside by the well watching the lane. She was very tired. Sam had been especially bad that night and she hoped to catch Mr. Frodo to speak with him. He had spent the night at Bag End working late and had not yet come by. She slumped down on the seat near the well, pulling her shawl around her against the bitter wind. She leaned back and closed her eyes. "Rosie?" She jumped in surprise, but smiled when she spied Mr. Merry coming up the lane towards her.  
  
"Mr. Merry!" she said self-consciously, "I didn't hear you comin'"  
  
He smiled in return, then frowned as he noticed her haggard face. "Is something wrong, Rosie?" he asked in concern.  
  
Rosie bit her lip in dismay. Should she confide her fears to Merry? He was a good friend to both Frodo and Sam. Perhaps he would be the best one to talk to. She twisted the ends of her shawl with her fingers. "I'm worried about Sam," she sighed wearily.  
  
Merry studied her for a moment, then settled down beside her. Oddly enough, he had heard the same thing from Dr. Smallburrow just that morning. That was actually why Merry had come. He wanted to check on Sam, but now with Rosie echoing the doctor's concerns, Merry was more worried than ever. "What is wrong with him?" he asked quietly.  
  
Rosie brushed away the tears that seemed to come so easily these days. "He was so happy at first," she said worriedly, "but lately, he's changed. Oh, when you or Mr. Frodo or Mr. Pippin come by, he still acts happy and all, but it's just that – an _act_. When no one's lookin' he's altogether different. He has bad dreams all the time and he hardly eats. It's as if he can't let go of all the bad things that happened to him."  
  
Merry sighed, shaking his head wearily. "I know what you mean," he said. "I see the same things in Frodo. He has his own demons to fight and coming home hasn't dispelled them." He glanced back at the house. "To be honest, I have felt that all was not right with Sam, but I couldn't tell Frodo that. He is so relieved to have finally gotten the truth out, he wants to believe Sam will be fine. So much has happened to them that we can't even begin to understand." Again he paused, brushing the hair from his eyes. He gazed out into the distance.  
  
"Frodo carried the Ring of Power and it was slowly but surely consuming him with its dark power. He told me many times that without Sam, the quest would have failed almost from the start. As for Sam, in some ways I think his journey was the hardest of all. Pippin and I always had someone helping us. Even when the orcs had us, we knew Aragorn was coming. But Sam, Sam had no one. Frodo had his Ring and by the end, Gollum understood Frodo better than did Sam. Sam had to make all the decisions. When he thought Frodo was dead, he was forced to make the decision to take stay with Frodo or take the Ring himself and attempt to destroy it ...alone. Alone, he rescued Frodo from the orcs, got him across Mordor to Mt. Doom and then was faced with a master who had turned into a monster. Again and again Sam has been forced to deal with horrific situations with no one to help him, even after they were rescued, he was still alone."  
  
Rosie sighed unhappily. "It didn't change when he got home to the Shire," she said. "His friend, Hertig, was caught. Sam had to then deal with that vile Lotho Pimple alone. Jolly and I helped as much as we dared, but still. Then, he escaped and joined the rebels and many of them ended up dead just like Jolly and Sam had to turn himself in to save the rest of us. Then, he was alone with that devil, Ferny."  
  
"But, he's _not_ alone now." Merry and Rosie turned quickly in their seat to find Frodo standing behind him, his face full of anguish.  
  
"Frodo!" cried Merry getting to his feet, "I..."  
  
"No, Merry, it's all right," said Frodo sadly. "I didn't mean to eavesdrop, but I heard most of what you said and it is true. Sam was alone, more so than any of us. At least I had that accursed Ring. And Gollum, poor company though he was. So, even when I was with Sam, I was of no help." He looked glumly at the damp ground at his feet. "I have noticed Sam has not been doing well," he said suddenly. "I just didn't want to believe it." He stood silently for a moment, then looked at the house. "I think I'd better go see him," was all he said.  
  
Sam lay in his bed staring at the ceiling. His dinner sat untouched on the bedside table. He felt guilty wasting the Cotton's food, but he had no appetite. A sound at the door caused him to turn his gaze towards the doorway and he watched as Frodo slowly entered. Oddly, there was no welcoming smile this time, just a sad, worried look.  
  
"Mister Frodo?" he asked. Sam's voice was still raspy, but he had use of it now at least.  
  
"Hullo, Sam," said Frodo quietly sitting down beside his friend. He studied Sam's puzzled face. It was a face he knew so well. He had seen it happy, furious, and full of grief. He smiled faintly as he recalled the relief he felt when that same, warm face hovered over him in Cirith Ungol signaling his rescue from the orcs. But, the face was different now. It was thin and distant and there was a defeated look in the eyes that Frodo had never seen before, even during the darkest days of Mordor. He took Sam's hand.  
  
"What is wrong, Sam?" he asked now looking into Sam's eyes. "Please. Tell me."  
  
Sam opened his mouth to protest that nothing was wrong, but one look from his master told him that would be futile. Frodo knew something was amiss and after what happened in Minas Tirith, he would not let up until he found out.  
  
"I..I'm not really sure, Mr. Frodo," Sam finally admitted. "I thought after you had explained everything to me that things would be back to the way they were, but..." he paused here, his face full of pain, "but they're not! I can't help but think of all the people that would still be alive it weren't for me! Jolly, Largo and the others, perhaps Hertig. I was so foolish and blind that I ran away and look what happened! I don't see how the Cottons can stand to look at me much less keep me in their house!" He stopped again, shaking, his breaths coming in gasps. Frodo stared at him in alarm.  
  
"Sam!" he exclaimed, "None of this is your fault! _Saruman_ had them killed, _not you_! _You_ gave everyone hope where there was none! _You_ stood up to them and fought back, then _you_ were willing to give up your life for theirs just as you were willing to do for me. How could you think anyone would blame you for what happened? Sam, didn't what happened in Minas Tirith teach you not to jump to conclusions!"  
  
Sam smiled weakly, but looked away. Minas Tirith. Would that name forever conjure up unwanted nightmares? Sam bit his lip then reluctantly replied, "I want to believe what you told me, Mr. Frodo, about what happened there and all, but somehow, even that is hard to do. Those words just keep echoin' in my head, over and over. I can't shut 'em out, much as I want to. I know you _said_ you were talkin' about Gollum, but...but were you _really?_ I must know the truth!" This time, Sam turned his eyes towards Frodo, so full of desperation and pleading, Frodo couldn't speak.  
  
"I...I don't know what to say to you, Sam," Frodo finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. Tears were now glistening in his eyes. "I would rather cut my throat than hurt you. Everything I told you before was true! How can I make you believe me?"  
  
Sam said nothing. He didn't know what to do. Why was he doubting Frodo's word? He never had before. Merry and Pippin had told him how much Frodo suffered after Sam's disappearance. Shouldn't that be enough to convince him?  
  
"I guess I'm havin' a hard time believin' anything good can happen to me," Sam finally sighed. "I'm afraid if I finally trust in somethin', it will turn out just like everything else – dead or destroyed."  
  
Frodo nodded. He understood that only too well. He had felt that way himself so often since the beginning of the Quest, but he now he had to help his friend. "Sam," he said more firmly now, "You mean more to me than anyone else in the world. You mean just as much to Rosie. It's not just your body that needs to heal. Your heart and soul need it just as much. Please, give yourself that time, Sam. Try and see the good that is around you and not just remember the bad of the past. You and I destroyed the Ring so that the world would still have some good in it. Don't let everything we did be for nothing. Don't leave me, Sam."  
  
Sam lay there in silence staring at the ceiling. Then, with a tremulous smile, Sam nodded. "I will try, Mr. Frodo. For your sake and for Rosie's, I will try."  
  
And he did. Not every day was easy for Sam, but he tried to see something good in every day and soon, he was able to see more and more. He slowly began to regain his strength and his spirits lifted immediately the first day Dr. Smallburrow allowed him out of bed. Granted, it was just to sit in a chair by the window, but to Sam, it was the first sign he would someday be himself again and his friends began to feel more hopeful.  
  
Mayor Whitfoot, although he had temporarily turned over his position to Frodo while recovering from his incarceration in the Lockholes, had decreed that there would be a festival at the end of November to celebrate the Shire's victory over Sharkey and his men. Special honors would be awarded to those that had played an integral part in the overthrow of the ruffians. Pippin preened upon hearing that news. "Maybe we'll get medals!" he said to Merry excitedly. Merry just shook his head and exchanged grins with Frodo.  
  
It had been several weeks now since Saruman's demise and Sam was up and about and able to help Frodo with some of the simple tasks at Bag End. He knew about the upcoming festival to honor him and the others, but he was reluctant to attend the festivities. He felt very uncomfortable when local hobbits came by to give him their thanks for all that he and his rebels had done for them. "Sam," sighed Frodo once again. "You _must_ come. You have no choice! The citizens of Hobbiton wish to honor you and you must respect that!"  
  
Sam looked uncomfortable. "But, I really didn't _do_ anything," he protested weakly. "I helped the others. It was all their doing! They should be honored, not me!"  
  
"Well, it does not matter," replied Frodo looking at him in exasperation. "They want you there!" Sam sighed and finally nodded. He glanced up and spied Rosie watching him from across the room, a fond grin on her lovely face. Sam blushed and looked down.  
  
The day of the festival was a beautiful one. It was clear and unseasonably warm. Although the Party Tree long longer existed, tables and tents were set up in the field just the same. Sam vowed to plant a new tree as soon as spring came. He couldn't bear the look of the desolate field. Lights were strung and there was music and dancing and food galore. Once Sharkey's stores were opened, there was more than enough food for everyone. Merry and Pippin, resplendent in their armor, were at the center of attention. Many a lovely hobbit lass gazed longingly at them as they recounted their many adventures. Frodo and Sam were content to sit quietly off to the side and watch the others celebrate their freedom.  
  
"Seems right somehow," remarked Sam looking up into the clear, star-lit sky. "that our adventures end with a party seein' how they started with one!" He smiled at Frodo. "We're just missin' some o' Gandalf's fireworks!" Frodo laughed and wondered where Gandalf was.  
  
Finally, it was time for the speeches to be made. Much to his delight, Pippin and Merry were indeed awarded medals for their heroism and service to the Shire. There was much cheering and toasting in their honor. Mayor Whitfoot was about to move on to Sam and Frodo when his eyes grew wide with wonder as he stared off down the road.  
  
All the hobbits turned and with small cries of amazement, they spied two figures making their way towards the gathering. One, looked like an old man but he and his magnificent stallion were as white as the purest snow. Beside him, on an equally majestic chestnut steed, sat a tall warrior, his armor gleaming in the torchlight and his blond hair flowing down his broad shoulders. "Gandalf!" cried Frodo in surprise, leaping to his feet. He was followed by Sam who gasped, "Hertig!" The hobbits made way for the horses and watched excitedly as they realized a couple of hobbits rode behind. It was Ilberic and Ferdinand riding none other than Bill the Pony and Trofast, the Sam's pony from Rohan.  
  
Gandalf and Hertig dismounted and greeted hobbits left and right as they made their way to the stage where Frodo and the others sat. Gandalf beamed up at them with as much pride as father whose children had finally proven themselves. Gandalf embraced each of the four hobbits, giving Sam an especially warm smile. "I was worried we might not see you again, Sam," he said softly. "I am pleased that I was wrong!" Sam simply blushed, but he looked up eagerly when Hertig approached.  
  
"Well, Sam," grinned the soldier after embracing the dumbstruck hobbit, "It would seem that your safe little Shire was far more dangerous than I was led to believe! I think perhaps I should return to Helm's Deep where things were less hazardous!" Sam grinned back, then looked uncomfortable.  
  
"I am sorry, Master Hertig," he began. "I should never have let you come with me. You were almost killed!"  
  
Hertig looked solemnly down at his small friend, then kneeling before him, placed his hands on Sam's shoulders. "Sam, you turned yourself in to save my life and those of your friends, the Cottons. Fortunately, I had already escaped, but you had no way of knowing that. Many times I have saved comrades in the heat of battle and they me, but never has someone willingly surrendered themselves to the enemy and offered their life in exchange for mine. I will always be in your debt, Samwise Gamgee." Sam just blinked in embarrassment, then shyly smiled in return. It would not do to insult his friend. He then noticed the horses.  
  
"Bill! Trofast! Manelys!" Sam cried in delight. "Where did you find them?"  
  
Hertig laughed. "A horse of Rohan is no ordinary horse, my friend! It would take more than those puny ruffians to capture and hold one such as Manelys! Even one as small as Trofast, is not easily taken. Gandalf said that Shadowfax called them to him and thus they were waiting for me in Bree when I awoke. Your pony Bill, I was told, just appeared one day at the inn. I am sure he will be very glad to see you again!"  
  
Hertig stood up and regarded the assembled hobbits. He turned to the Mayor with a welcoming smile. "May I be permitted to speak?" The Mayor equally pleased to see his old cellmate from the Lockholes stepped aside and allowed Hertig to take his place on the platform. Hertig looked down at the four hobbits and Gandalf, then turned to his audience.  
  
"My name is Hertig. I am a Rider from Rohan, although I doubt many of you have ever heard of my land." The hobbits laughed a little at this. "I know today you are celebrating your freedom from your oppressors and have been honoring your four companions, Merry Brandybuck, Pippin Took, Frodo Baggins, and Samwise Gamgee for their fight here in the Shire. However, I am here to tell you that is only the beginning of their brave and noble deeds. I am here to tell you of two hobbits considered so brave that one was chosen to be a Rider of Rohan, one of the Rohirrim and the other as one of the elite guards of the Citadel of Minas Tirith Both fought most bravely against the fiercest warriors the Dark Lord could muster as well as defeated a mighty wizard." Merry and Pippin blushed in pleasure as they noticed the villagers staring at them in renewed awe. "But, I am also here to tell you of two other hobbits, who alone and unprotected, made their way into the very heart of Sauron's dominion, into the very fires of Mt. Doom itself to destroy the one thing that could return the foul lord to his full strength: The Ring of Power."  
  
The hobbits were enthralled. Hertig was a gifted story teller and his tale of the travelers' adventures and fight against the Evil trying to take over the world was beyond anything heard in the Shire before. Having such an obviously noble and courageous warrior such as Hertig telling the story brought even more credence to the tale. Knowing that great kings throughout Middle Earth called these four hobbits their friends was something that would be talked about in the pubs for months to come.  
  
When Hertig was finished, there was a moment of silence, then almost as one all the hobbits rose to their feet cheering and applauding. Merry, Pippin, Frodo, and Sam looked to one another and smiled in embarrassment. Although Merry and Pippin has spoken some of their adventures, most of the other hobbits seemed skeptical that such events could have ever taken place. Pippin gave Merry a nudge in the ribs and a smug smile. Now they'd have to believe them!  
  
There was a wonderful party afterwards and much to Sam's delight, Gandalf managed to conjure up some of his magnificent fireworks. Hertig had become the center of attention for the younger hobbits who were full of questions. The Rider enjoyed every minute of his new found fame and would delight in telling his children of his adventures in the Shire.  
  
Sam sat at a table with Frodo and for the first time in many, many months, felt at peace. Hertig's return had lifted such a weight from his shoulders that he almost felt giddy with relief. He hadn't realized how his fear for the Rider had been consuming him. But now, now it was time for Samwise Gamgee to start living again. Time for him to look now to the future and all the wonders it might hold. Looking up, he spied Rosie helping her mother at one of the serving tables. Frodo glanced at his friend and frowned slightly as he noticed the sudden look of grim determination on Sam's face.  
  
"Sam?" he asked with a touch of concern. "Is there something wrong?"  
  
Sam took a swig of ale from his mug, and stood up. "No, Mr. Frodo," he replied taking a deep breath. "But I think it's about time I asked Rosie for that dance!"  
  
Frodo grinned as he watched Sam make his way across the field. Sam was back at last. 


End file.
